Somewhere Better
by xxrageandlovexx
Summary: (SPOILERS) Heisenberg's dead. Jesse escaped after six months held captive, but escaping doesn't necessarily mean a happy ending. After trauma, heartbreak... How would it all go, in conclusion? A soul could only be toyed around with so much. POST-FELINA
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay well I'm kind of new to this so we'll see how this goes. I'm just really upset about the series ending so I've basically decided to write my own little afterwards post-felina thing. So this is basically out of my sadness for the series finale. I'll edit later, since it might have grammar errors.**

**WARNING: Non-graphic violence and cruelty, slavery.**

**I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.**

* * *

All he could remember was that he was screaming non-stop, screaming until his voice went hoarse and screaming until it eventually turned into numerous amount of sobs. Though, most of it came out slightly muffled due to the strip of cloth covering the entrance of his mouth. After disregarding the orders to keep shut by the gang, they easily forced themselves to strike him until he did.

Jesse anxiously watched the blond, cold-blooded killer walk up the steps of his girlfriend's house, who he hadn't seen in several months (And God, how much he regrets it now was beyond words), and wasn't even certain if she was his girlfriend anyway, since he had broken things off with her recently.

The others in the van eyed Todd as he rang the doorbell, one of the neo-nazi's holding down the chained prisoner as he started to shift and lunge his body forwards in order to free himself, but shortly after, finding it pointless. In a matter of seconds, the front door creaked open slightly, revealing Andrea's weary face as she pushed the door outwards as far as the lock let her. Nobody in the van could see or hear it, though Todd was ominously yet politely talking his way to the woman to make it seem like he wouldn't hurt a fly. It was eerie; how nonchalant Todd behaved in such... unacceptable situations.

Inaudible to the conversation between Todd and Andrea, Jesse watched helplessly, letting out quiet whimpers now and then as the scene progressed. He leant his forehead onto the window, slightly puzzled that he wasn't hit or pulled back for moving up too close.

Andrea's outside now, out on the porch walking towards the direction of their black van. She was out in the open, so vulnerable, and so easy to kill.

Jesse starts to scream again, slamming his body against the window with all his might. Trying to scream out to save her but unable to. He goes limp again, only able to stare and hope for the least negative outcome that could occur.

Mumbling is heard from the two on the porch and eventually Todd had pulled out his firearm (_Finally! _Uncle Jack would have thought), and pointed it to the back of the young woman's head, her being completely lost in confusion and oblivious of her upcoming fate. Then, he pulled the trigger.

Andrea's body went limp as she fell against the concrete at the end of the steps. Without hesitation, Jesse started to scream once again, pushing himself against the window as if that were to save her even if already too late. His screams turn to into wails as the neo-nazi that was previously holding onto him, jerks him back, further away from the view of the body of his loved one.

The door of the vehicle opens and the young killer of a boy steps in and buckles in his seat belt as if he had a right to be safe, even if by the slightest. He brushed off their hostage's attempts to hurt Todd in any way, giving a slight grin as he watched their pet fail, remembering that he was chained, and breaking down in more tears. His wails grew louder.

"Hey! Hey, settle down! Settle down..." Uncle Jack raised his voice as he turned around to eye Jesse, who was remaining to struggle against grip and scream as loud as his lungs could bear. "Remember, there's still the kid." The older man adds in. He doesn't particularly look mocking nor wry, but more to the expression of a serious job that needed to be taken care of in order to discipline their inferior slave.

And with that, Jesse quiets down, not exactly willing to get another one of his loved ones killed, especially not Brock -Anyone else but the kid- who was almost like a son to the young man held captive. He managed to even more calm himself slightly. Although he was still bawling, but it was subtle from outside of the van. He fell against Todd's waist, disgusted with himself for even making contact with this monster, but he had no choice anyhow. The man on the other side of the backseat held down his legs as Todd held down his torso area.

The car finally started moving, and the closer they got to their hideout was the closer Jesse's body became vacant; empty.

The closer he got to losing hope about ever escaping.

* * *

Jesse woke with a rough and painful force that blew to his right shoulder. He must have fainted inside the van because now he was in the pit again, looking up to see one of his assailants shutting the grate of his pit, giving a wry smirk of contempt.

The vacant pit quickly became dark and nearly pitch-black as the cruel man placed the blue tarp on the top of the grate. Jesse listened for the footsteps to fade away.

Now he was really alone. He didn't have his parents, he didn't have Andrea, or Jane... Hell, he didn't even have Mr. White.

No one was coming to save him, and that now became a certain fact. But maybe he deserves it. He deserves all of this. But... Why Andrea?

It didn't seem fair. Then again, nothing ever really was for him, ever since he met the so-called asshole Heisenberg, his life turned into a literal hell. But even before that...

Jesse became unaware of his growing sobs as he laid in fetal position in the center of the floor of the pit. Darkness surrounded him, complete emptiness and remorse sunk in. And pain, who could forget the fucking pain?

More than a part of him hoped that the neo-nazi's would grow tired of him and just... fucking end him already. It didn't matter if it hurt like fuck or not... As long as it ended up with him lifeless on the ground like a slab of meat, even though they already viewed him as just that. Maybe if he was lucky, one of the neo-nazi's -_What__ was his name?_- would get drunk again and beat him to death. Although he'd prefer a quick death, did he really deserve that?

His 'girlfriend', killed, again. But this time it had _really_ been his fault. Mr. White had killed Jane... but this... this was... he might as well as pulled the trigger against Andrea's head _himself_. Jesse let out a wail and rolled over to his other side, his chest aching with grief and loneliness. Everything was gone now, because of him. The only person left was Brock, that is, if he managed to escape one day without getting the kid murdered as well. But where would Brock even be sent to? His Grandma's? Who else would he have to go to?

Not to mention, where would _he _go if he would ever manage to escape? His parents were who the hell knows where, if they're still in the same house. Adding in that they've basically disowned him.

* * *

Jesse cries non-stop for the next few days and gets beaten and mocked for doing so. Again. By the end of the week, his clothes are left stained with dried-brown blood and he's forced to change into Todd's pieces of clothing. Again.

He was forcefully hosed down (along with the pit) without any clothes due to its forming of foul odours to the point where it would stretch through the tarp and reach to the distance of the lab. After being humiliated and called vile names, Jesse literally _begged, _countless nights, to be killed. Only to have them laugh and snicker in his face.

* * *

Three months after he was captured, Jesse started to accept the fact that he'd never escape, and that no one would come looking for him. Some nights he would wonder what Mr. White was doing, if he even felt the slightest of guilt for what he had caused, or if he was still even alive. But then again, the asshole probably thought he was dead, taken care of, by now. So refraining the statement, _no one_ was coming for him. The only thought on Jesse's mind at the moment was of how long he would be here until he snaps?

_I deserve all of this_. Jesse pulled himself up to sit against the wall, carefully positioning the side of his ribs so that they weren't painfully aching. His hair was grown so that it stuck out in all directions. His facial hair had grown a bit as well. He looked down to his chain-linked bloody wrists, wondering if he'd get anything tonight for the batch he had just cooked.

Sometimes they'd give him leftovers from what they had eaten that night; pizza usually, or just soup. Sometimes he'd get ice cream or a drink other than water. But most of the time he slept most nights hungry and without meal. As for tonight, it's been 3 days since he'd last eaten...

Until the tarp was whipped off from the top of the grate and the figure of Todd stood above Jesse. "I got you some to eat." The younger man spoke, creaking open the grate and lowering the usual white bucket that he uses to give the captive food and drinks. "It's, um, chicken soup. Not much, but... yeah."

Jesse stood halfway, buckling his knees and cradling the side of his chest as he reached for the bowl inside of the bucket. He sat back down on the filthy mattress in the center of the pit, groaning as he did, and immediately started to dig into the soup, which barely had anything other than liquid. "Hey uh, do you have it?" Jesse hoarsely asked as Todd pulled up the bucket and closed the grate. "...Please?"

Todd made an uncomfortable facial expression and reached into the back of his pocket. "Yeah, yeah, here." He pulled out a photo from his back pocket and knelt to slip it through one of the holes between the bars of the grate. "Hey, listen, I'm not supposed to give you that, so keep it between us, okay? Wouldn't want you to get in some 'trouble'." Todd warned, waiting for Jesse to nod faintly, which he did. The younger man stood back up and placed the tarp back over the grate.

Jesse placed his bowl of soup onto the mattress and reached over to where the photograph lay. He picked it up, holding his chest with his left hand and holding the image with the other.

It was the same photo of Andrea and Brock used to force Jesse into cooking for them. Taken from inside of the gang's hangout. It wouldn't mean much to anyone else, considering that it was a photo taken without a person's consent, but Jesse held onto it for his life, or rather, kept it in his pocket and hoped that he wouldn't have to be hosed down anytime soon (since they usually did it once a week), or that they wouldn't abstain him for holding onto a photo of loved ones.

He fell back onto the mattress (since no pillow was ever provided), and stared up at the tarp, wondering if they'd one day find him redundant and kill him anytime soon.

* * *

At the fifth, almost sixth month, Jesse completely submitted himself towards these bastards, the only priority on his mind at the moment was if he'd get a special treat tonight. Sometimes if his batch came out with the lower purity than before, he'd get in huge trouble with an appalling punishment. Last month, they had threatened to cut out his eye because the purity of his batch was too low, but the only thing they left was a filthy scar dragging below and beside his right eye. In the same month, they took on a new hobby of burning him with their cigarettes and pulling on his now lengthy hair. He still got beatings, though, not a lot, but they were usually from 'provoking' the gang members with innocent questions-_What time do I get to go to sleep?_- or sometimes the others got drunk and would group up on him and humiliate him in front of everyone. The worst was when they'd force him without clothing to be hosed down full force in front of the gang. Point in fact that they hadn't given him a 'shower' in nearly a month now... at least he _thought_ it was nearly a month.

Apparently, this batch ended up being the best of all of them; 98.9% of pure crystal. In reward, they gave him leftovers of pizza, drinks, and warmer blankets to sleep in. _"See what'appens when yer good, kid?"_ one of the neo-nazi's had 'congratulated' him later in the night.

Jesse would have to do another batch tomorrow though, which gave them more of an excuse to remain threatening him- _"If this batch isn't better than the last one, you're fucked"_- but Jesse liked it in the lab better anyway. It wasn't pitch dark, he had more space to walk, air-conditioned... and it was a more preferable place that anyone would consider in this situation. In the pit, the nights were usually filled with fear and bad odours and bad dreams. Speaking of, Jesse liked to daydream about a lot of things as well; where he'd want to vacation, if he would ever get a dog or pet one day, what he would want to eat right now... Sometimes he thought of good time memories and got too drifted away in them and would be profoundly upset when he snapped out of it. The one thing he daydreamed of mostly was building that wooden chest in class in High School, but he was always interrupted by Todd, or one of the gang members, or just by himself.

Something was different the next day though, Todd had told him that the gang wanted to see him. _Another fucking group beating...?_ He nodded and waited for Todd to unlock him from the 'chain leash', as he liked to call it. "C'mon." Todd gently said, his hand on Jesse's shoulder, directing him out of the lab (even though he already knew his way). Todd started to speed up and Jesse was forced to run ahead with the manacles jingling along.

Todd told the man at the doorway- Jesse later found out his name; Frankie... he thinks...-that Uncle Jack "wanted to see Jesse", and with that, the neo-nazi let them both in, staring at Jesse like he was gum underneath a shoe.

He was shaking, a nervous hitch with every breath. His hair was long now, sometimes it would fall in front of his forehead and cover his eyes, but the gang didn't seem to care. Hell, they barely cared about Jesse himself.

As he stepped into the room, he saw who he had least expected to show up. It was... _Mr. White_, of all people. That name felt peculiar in his thoughts. Jesse didn't know how to feel, or react, as he stood frozen near the doorway. "Yeah, see what I'm talking about, you son of a bitch?" Uncle Jack raised his voice as he shortly later reached towards Jesse to grab him by the back of the neck and force him forwards. Through grunts, Jesse worked his legs and stumbled into the lighter section of the room. And there stood Heisenberg himself, except it wasn't Heisenberg any more. "Now does this look like a partner to you?" He added. Jesse hung his head down, now feeling tears string into his eyes. "C'mere, take a look at him! C'mere!" he shouted again, demanding Walt to walk forwards. The man who was once an innocent Chemistry teacher slowly approached closer, triggering Jesse to hold up his head and give this bastard a scorn, disdain look. It quickly failed though as Mr. White- _Walter_ got too close and as Uncle Jack started to use taunting words.

"Take a look at him."

"Half a gander."

"He's my partner, right partner? Right buddy?" Jack gave a slight wry grin. "Hard-working good partner,"

"50-50 partner." With this, Jesse finally had to use all his strength to try not to break down in front of everyone. Uncle Jack had gotten this phrase from that confessions video meant for Hank and the DEA. He misused it to mock, hence the whole 50-50 thing was supposed to be of Jesse and Mr. White-_"Hey, that's totally uncool man; 50-50 partners!" - "You can't order shit, Adolf, okay? We're 50-50 partners, remember?"_-, rather than... Jesse and the abusive neo-nazis. "Can you hurry this shit up? Make it quick." Uncle Jack ordered but nothing happened except a moment of silence throughout the room.

Walt abruptly ran forward and threw Jesse towards the ground- the gang gave a loud '_ooh_' altogether-, the meth king persistent on holding him down. He could feel Jesse shaking and grunting underneath, probably fucking _terrified_, but it was for the best.

"Hey Toddy, get'im off!" Jack demanded and others joined in-"Yeah, Toddy, get'im off!"-and started laughing as if the situation was hilarious. Todd knelt down and with his best grip, tried to pull off Mr. White, with no luck. The moment precipitated as the entire hangout became a shootout, with only one gun. Bullets drew everywhere, filling the air with blood and darting through each and every one of the gang members, except for Todd, who was already on the floor, crawling to a safer area.

Walt could hear Jesse trying to scream as he gave up on trying to get out of Walt's grip. _It'll be over soon, Jesse... Calm down, son.  
_

Walt grunted in pain as a bullet suddenly shot right through him, piercing through his side. He lowered his head in slight defeat and pain. Soon enough, the roaring sound of gunfire halted, and all that there was to be heard was blood dripping from the following corpses. Walt pushed himself off Jesse, giving him more space to breath and moan in fear and shock.

After a moment of sudden realisation, Jesse rolled himself over to see Todd, staring out of the window, so vulnerable and out in the open. "Jesus... Mr. White..." The youngest man began but couldn't finish as the chain from Jesse's manacles wrapped around his throat, cutting off his supply of oxygen. Jesse pulled him back, falling over to the ground to bring Todd with him. The younger of the two struggled to try to release himself until Jesse tightened his grip and suffocated every last living inch of Todd. And God, it felt so good.

He unwrapped the chains around Todd's neck and searched his jeans for the keys to his manacles.

As he unlocked himself free, another gunshot was heard from the same room; Walt had just killed Uncle Jack. Jesse pulled himself up from the ground, disregarding his aching sides, and stared at the man before him who held the same firearm used to shoot Jack. Walt looked just as different as he did himself did. He stared, only seeing that Mr. White was about to shoot him. _This is it_. _This is where it all ends._ But... he didn't shoot. Instead he bent over and slid the firearm across the floor, closer to Jesse.

Without hesitation, Jesse bent down and grabbed the gun, then proceeded to point it towards the direction of Mr. White.

"Do it." Walt spoke weakly, nodding as he did so. Jesse's face grimaced as if he were about to break down crying. "You want this."

"Say the words...!" Jesse exclaimed, shaking his head slightly. It was the first words he'd spoken this week. "Say it! Say that you want this!" He continued, broken and pain-filled tears rolling down his cheeks. His throat felt dry of any source of fluid as he gulps, "Nothing happens until I hear you say it."

Walt stared for a short moment, no emotion whatsoever. "I want this." He said, nearly a whisper. Jesse held back an impulse to break down sobbing as he tightened his grip on the firearm. He looked over to Walt's side, where it was slowly increasing its soaking of blood. _He got shot._ He looked at up to Walt's face, to see the older man awaiting his death. Jesse lowered his gun.

"Then do it yourself." He softly murmured, releasing the gun and letting it fall to the ground. As soon as he walked out, he felt the air of freedom and relief. It was overwhelming, really. His wrists and angles felt free of shackles. Jesse walked over to Todd's car and used his keys from previously to unlock it. Eventually Walt had walked outside as well, speaking into a mobile (Todd's), "...Like you've got the flu? That would be the Ricin I gave you. I stuck it into that Stevia crap that you're always putting in your tea..." He was silent for a short moment, when he finally mumbled, "...Well, goodbye Lydia."

Jesse watched as Walt threw the cellphone carelessly to the ground, and pulled up his head to stare at Jesse one last time. He nodded, as if to say Goodbye. Jesse took a deep breath and nodded back, then promptly and swiftly climbed into the car and started the engine. Full of excitement, he backed up and speeded towards the gate of the neo-nazi hideout, bursting it open with full force. Finally, after holding it all in for months, he started to sob with tears of happiness, screaming at the top of his lungs euphorically. He could crash at any moment, but right now, he was honestly careless whether he died or not. He was finally out, that's all that mattered.

Sirens were in the distance and Jesse thought them too late, Heisenberg had won again, one step in front of everyone else. Before they arrived, he'd already be dead- it was certain. Jesse didn't know whether or not to feel happy about that. He was a monster and the devil, but he was also the closest thing to family that he had.

_Farewell, Walter White.  
_

* * *

**A/N: Okay. Well, um thanks for reading if you bothered to, haha. I'm so, SO upset over the finale ugh. Leave a review, and thanks for reading. I think I might do a second chapter. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So I've decided to do a second chapter I guess. Leave a review. It's helpful. I'm not a really good writer, but I tried haha.**

**I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.**

* * *

He drove until the vehicle ran out of gas, then walked the rest of the way to who the hell knows where. His house was probably boarded off due to his supposed 'death'. They must have somehow figured that he would be buried with Hank and whatever-the-hell his partner's name was- _Gomez?_. Jesse stepped out of the car and looked around the familiar streets; cold, lost of where to go. Most of him debated whether to just get caught, let someone find _him_. But he couldn't spend his life in prison... that's a last option. The general point was, he had nowhere to go... unless...

Brandon Mayhew ran towards the door stubbornly in his PJs, wondering who could be at his door in the middle of the night. Hell, barely anybody but Skinny Pete go to his house in the _day_. He opened the door the see an unfamiliar figure. "Yeah?" Brandon gave a frustrated croak. The figure remained silent, hanging its head low until Brandon got the message. The weary man immediately went full of energy as he smiled in delight and realisation. "Jesse?! Woah, hey Jesse! Hey man, come in!" He raised his voice in excitement as he opened the door entirely. "Come on, man! What's up?!" He laughed. Jesse wobbled in slowly, not paying attention to the actual place. "Yeah, shitty place to live, I know."

But Jesse was still silent, hanging his head low in exhaustion. "Dude, you alright? We haven't seen you in months! Me and Skinny thought you moved to Alaska, yo." Badger spoke in a happy tone, oblivious to his friend's lack of well-being. "You been out partying? You look like shit." _And smelt like it_, Badger thought but didn't say aloud. Jesse remained frozen in the middle of the room.

"Jesse?... You alright?" It had finally hit him that something wasn't exactly... right. He stepped forwards and placed his hand against Jesse shoulder, causing Jesse to flinch greatly and let out a tiny noise of panic. Badger retrieved his hand back and walked in front of his vacant friend. Through the crappy and dim light that a nearby lamp gave from a stool, the older man discovered scars placed all around Jesse's face. "Holy shit, man. What happened?!" No reply.

"Here, why don't you... Sleep here. However long you want, yo." He changed the subject, noting how traumatised and tormented Jesse looked; eyes weary and giving up, body posture slouching and weak. He leaped over the things thrown on the ground and raced to his room to grab a spare blanket, coming back with pillows as well. "Here, just- no, Jesse, where are you going, man?" The younger of the two began to slowly head towards the door. The way Jesse walked was... gut wrenching. It was so out of the ordinary that Badger nearly felt light-headed.

"You don't want me here." Jesse croaked, unable to find his own voice. Badger seemed more shaken by his voice than the entire situation.

"'Course I want you here! Just, c'mon, yo, lie down and just spend the night, or even a few nights!... If you want." Badger responded, nodding as he did so in order to try to convince Jesse to stay. He settled down the pillows, readied the blanket and smiled sadly as Jesse wobbled back and crawled onto the sofa underneath the warmth of the blankets and the softness of the pillows. "Here, just get some rest, man. You can take a shower and clean up tomorrow." But Jesse was already snoring. "...Right."

* * *

Jesse woke up the next morning in a sweat after another nightmare; he had dreamt of Kenny, one of the gang members, hosing him down until the entire pit filled of water, which eventually ended up drowning him to death as the others stood and laughed.

**6:00AM**. It wasn't too early for himself, considering it was the time he woke up most days in the pit. He crawled out of the of covers, finding it hard to stretch from his spot due to his entire body aching with every movement of a muscle. _I'm not in the pit today... Not tomorrow... I'm never gonna be in that fucking pit..._ He almost laughed aloud.

Jesse stood up and slowly made his way towards the bathroom, figuring that it would be better if he showered now than later. He locked the door behind him and walked towards the mirror, staring at himself with his mouth agape. Sure, he's seen reflections of himself in the lab but never in an actual mirror. And Jesus, he _did_ look like shit. Skin and bones, more facial hair than he would ever let himself grow, long hair, scars, cuts and bruises. Now feeling nauseous, he turned around to see spare clothes on top of the toilet seat, along with a towel already readied for him. He exhaled sharply. It was profoundly exciting to finally get a shower to his own privacy.

Stripping himself of his clothing, he climbed into the shower and turned on the water. Tears started to stream down his cheeks as soon as the warm water hit softly against his skin. He was in a private area, showering. Not with a hose of freezing cold water on full force and being bare-naked in front of the entire gang as they shouted vile words and names. Jesse let out a joy-filled wail.

After he was finished, he got cleaned up, shaved, and dressed in Badger's spare clothes. His hair was still long, though, which was irritating.

He stepped out of the bathroom to see that the crappy bungalow was still empty and quiet, Badger wasn't up yet.

* * *

**11:58AM**

Badger walked down the corridor and into his living room to see Jesse sitting on the couch, wrapped up in his blanket as he sat idly. "Uh, bro, you could've watched TV, y'know. The remote's right there." Badger mentioned as he pointed towards the remote on the coffee table right in front of the couch, but quickly noticed tear tracks along the younger man's cheeks and remained silent. "So uh, you hungry or... I can order a pizza, man." Jesse shook his head.

"Dude, you're skin and bones! You need to eat, yo!" Badger replied, picking up the phone to dial the number for pizza anyway, since he was feeling for some himself. After he ordered- _"Pepperoni with garlic dip, yo!... Also add in some drink of whatever. Surprise me, man."_- he grew slightly determined to find out what the hell happened to his younger and probably closest friend in the past six months. Their friendship wasn't really the usual 'vent to me your problems' thing, but this seemed necessary. "So uh, what happened, yo? Haven't seen you in like six months."

"Me n' Pete, thought you were in Alaska... until your boy Walt told us that you were back cookin'... he looked pretty mad about it though." Badger added, awaiting a reply. Jesse turned his head to look at his weary-eyed friend.

"What?"

"Yeah, like three days ago, man. That doesn't really explain the six months though." He continued, scratching the back of his neck as he did so. "Where is 'Heisenberg' anyway? Hadn't seen him lately either."

Jesse cleared his throat and eyed the remote. "Hey, uh, yeah. Can we watch TV?" He asked. Badger nudged his head to the direction of the remote as if to say 'Go ahead'. Jesse reached over and grabbed the remote firmly, later pressing one of the buttons to power the cheap TV that was placed across the room. Immediately, the channel was switched on the news station.

"Right. Well, I'm gonna go get myself cleaned up. Stay put, yo." said Badger, standing up from his position and preparing himself to walk off down the corridor until he was interrupted by a headline from the news channel.

'Yesterday, Sunday September 7th, was the date of the death of the infamous 'Heisenberg', real name Walter White, who was in fugitive state for several months, and was confirmed dead the previous night at a neo-nazi gang hideout, along with several others. The location is not to be released at this time.

'Heisenberg was found in what appears to be a meth lab located just beside the hideout, already dead of blood loss from a bullet of the same alleged gunfire shootout that occurred yesterday night. The other members were found dead of the same firearm, later discovered from the back of White's car, one strangled. Images may contain graphic nature.'

The TV displayed photos of the hideout, displaying most of the scene, without the bodies. It also showed images of the pit, which made Jesse look away.

'It was presumed that the Neo-nazi gang had kept a prisoner down in a pit found nearby the site, but the hostage was nowhere to be found. Authorities send out a message to the public that the hostage is a possible threat and may be armed and dangerous. Further details will be announced tonight at 10. Henry?'

'Thank you, Margaret, now with today's weather..."

Jesse switched off the TV and placed the remote back onto the messy coffee table. He ignored Badger's mouth agape as he stared at the younger man. "Yo." He started, overwhelmed of shock from the news. He eventually came to his senses and suspicions and- "Were you...?"

"Yeah." Jesse cut off, avoiding eye contact. He subconsciously prepared himself to be hit, or yelled at. Badger must have noticed.

"Dude, I'm not gonna like, do anything to you, yo... okay?" The older man slowly approached the couch and sat down where he was previously. "Okay, I-" But his cellphone rang, playing an obnoxious rap song aloud, which Badger even personally admitted that it had ruined the moment. The screen displayed 'Skinny Pete'. "Hold on."

He pulled the mobile up to his ear and spoke in an irritated tone, "Yeah?"

"Yo, did'ya hear what was on the news, bro?"

"Yeah, man. Heisenberg's dead. I know."

"D'ya think Jesse knows? Him not being 'round here n' all?"

"Yeah, about that. He's here..." Badger responded, shortly after standing up and walking to the corridor to whisper into the mobile, "And not in the best shape, yo."

"Jesse's here?! Since when, bro?"

"Since, like, yesterday night, man. Same day as when Heisenberg died." He replied, as if to give Pete the idea, only for it to be no use.

"Yo, I'm comin' over. I seriously thought he moved to Alaska 'til like three days ago, bro. See ya."

Badger hung up the phone and placed it back into his back-pocket. He walked back towards Jesse who was now crying into his hands, whimpering and wailing as he did so. Feeling awkward and incompetent of what to do, he sat next Jesse and gently placed a hand on his shoulder so that his arm was wrapped around Jesse's back. "Look, man, you should go rest more. You could sleep in my bed, if you want... Here." Badger helped up Jesse, whose breath was hitching aloud, and led him down the corridor and to his bed to rest. "Here, just- yeah." He spoke as Jesse lay down, instantly relaxed as soon as he hit the covers. "I'll... uh, come check up on you later, I guess." Badger backed up and closed the bedroom door behind him.

There was a knock an the door, which led to Pete entering without warning shortly after, considering that Badger never really locks his door anyway. "Yooo! Where's Pinkman at? We should all smoke some, for old times sake, y'know?" Pete marched in, walking around excitedly.

"Dude, quiet down! Jesse's sleeping." Badger hissed as he mentioned the current state of their friend. He placed a firm hand on Pete's shoulder to stop him from moving so much. "Yeah, we've got a problem."

"Yeah? What kind'a problem?"

"Turns out, Jesse was the person held captive at the Neo-nazi or whatever's hideout place." Badger flatly said without hesitation.

"What?! You gone crazy, yo?!" Pete raised his voice in disbelief.

"No, man! Have you seen him? There's like, friggin' scars and cuts all over him." Badger explained. "He came here last night, looking worse. Smelt like shit, looked like shit and everything. He started cryin' and shit and I think they tortured him or something, yo."

Pete took a seat at the arm of the couch, looking pale and shaken. "Holy shit, yo." He massaged his temple. They remained silent, oblivious to police sirens going off in the distance, that appeared to be getting closer. Close enough that it started to get louder. "The hell?" Pete said to no one in particular, Badger thought the same, growing anxious to who the sirens may actually be for. Why would they be for him or Pete? Not like they're known for anything. But at that moment, Badger had a good idea in his head. _Jesse. _

Before they could even think to make a run for it, the door was kicked open and several police men hoarded in, pointing firearms at Badger and Skinny, telling them to get on their knees. "Where's Jesse Pinkman!" Demanded one of the police men. Badger didn't know how the hell they even knew that Jesse was here but out of utter panic he quickly replied, "What?!"

"Found him." Another police officer down the corridor announced as he opened to the door to the bedroom. Two more of the police officers marched into the bedroom, Badger growing panicked as he knew some knowledge on traumas and how sensitive people who are in one could be.

Jesse froze up as one of the police officers forced him awake and assertively flipped him to his front, so that his back faced the ceiling. The police officer slapped on the handcuffs, which triggered Jesse to start screaming as the handcuffs made a close resemblance of the manacles. "No! Not again, please!" He sobbed as they forced him up to walk out of the house (they kept having to push him forwards to walk, since his legs started to fail him). Badger and Pete stared helplessly as Jesse disappeared from their view to be walked outside and placed into a vehicle.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading... Leave a review please :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello thanks for reading and leave a review please! I'm kind of self-conscious about writing or literally anything I do... Anyways, enjoy.**

**WARNING: Not-so-graphic flashback of cruelty and violence.**

**I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.**

* * *

"Hello?" Marie ran to the phone quickly as it had rung several times now.

"Marie Schrader?"

"Yes... Who is this?"

"This is the police enforcement. It has come to our notice that you are the widow of Hank Schrader of the DEA," They started. Tears welled up in Marie's eyes by the mention of the name. "We found Jesse Pinkman earlier today, who had been allegedly working with 'Heisenberg'... He's taken in custody for questioning." Marie thought she heard the angels sing. This kid wasn't as near to Walt for killing Hank, but now Walt's dead, and this is the closest thing. Originally she'd thought he was killed along with Hank and Gomez, but she had her suspicions.

"Oh thank God. Has he said anything?"

"Not a word. But the story from his friends that we took in as well, told us that he arrived at one of their houses last night, apparently looking tormented. Other than that, they didn't know anything." Marie nodded subconsciously as tears streamed down her cheeks. It wasn't like she cared whether the kid was tormented or not. "It is your choice to come in or not."

"Right. I'll be there around 5..." she sniffled. "Thanks... Bye." Marie hung up the phone and immediately picked it back up to call her sister, not like she would care much about this Pinkman kid (it's not like it was Walt), but she needed someone to tell since Hank obviously wasn't here any more.

* * *

_"Please... I don't... I don't know-!" Jesse cried aloud as Todd repeatedly threw his fist violently against Jesse's cheek. The younger man massaged his bloody knuckles as they began to ache from hitting too much. Jesse sat inside a pit (on a very uncomfortable steel chair), his hands and legs bound together with manacles, cutting into his wrists. "I don't know!" Blood pooled in his mouth and streamed down his nose. _

_"Jesse, you know exactly what I'm asking for," Todd responded in a swift and soft tone. It was eerie; a man beating up another into a bloody pulp, yet can remain so calm through it all. He threw another fist sloppily with his left hand. "What did you tell those men in the DEA?" Jesse disregarded and continued to cry, hanging his head low. Todd gave a faint scoff as he pulled an irritated look. _

_"Hey Toddy," Uncle Jack peeked through the top of the grate. "He say anythin' yet?" He added as he walked towards the entrance of the grate, eyeing Jesse deviously. _

_"No." Todd scratched the back of his neck subconsciously. "He says he doesn't know what I mean." Uncle Jack took the cigarette out of his mouth and held it between his finger as he blew out smoke. He climbed down the ladder that led into the pit and gently pushed Todd aside to face Jesse himself. _

_"Now, you told those DEA pricks anythin'?" Jack asked calmly, yet sounding as threatening as ever. _

_**I'm not telling these assholes anything.** Jesse grew his bravery back as he dared to faintly whisper, "Go to Hell", one eye swollen shut, blood dripping past his lips. Jack gave a wry snicker as he looked behind him to Todd, who looked as if he were patiently waiting for the situation to unfold. Jack stared back at Jesse with contempt, then lifted up his cigarette to hold it against Jesse's neck. He gave a smug grin at the fact that Jesse was screaming as the hot end of the cigarette burnt through his flesh._

* * *

"Listen kid, we need questions to be answered and you can't answer them if you're crying." One of the men interrogating had said, unsympathetic and careless to how broken Jesse actually looked. The man looked about 40, was buff and had a cunning look on his face, as if it were plastered on permanently. The other man was slightly overweight and short with a goatee of grey hairs.

"The chains..." Jesse barely whispered.

"What?"

"The handcuffs..." He croaked as he tugged once more at them.

"Look, kid, if I get off the handcuffs, you gonna answer what ever questions I ask?" Jesse nodded briefly. The interrogator reached over with keys to unlock the handcuffs, but he was tapped on the shoulder by the other man in the room.

"Ralph, you sure about this?"

"Come on, Steve, look at the kid. He barely has enough strength to walk." The other man, Steve, backed up and allowed Ralph to unlock the cuffs. "Plus, there's two of us and one of him." Jesse cradled his hands onto his lap and awaited any questions.

"Okay. So first of all, is this your car?" The man pull out a photo from a case file and placed it onto the table. It was a photo of Todd's black car, that he drove here from the hideout. Jesse did no movement to answer the question. "Kid, I took off the handcuffs." Still no reply. The man questioning gave a face of irritation and moved to Jesse's hands to slap on the cuffs again.

"No...!"

"Then, answer the questions." The oldest man in the room spoke in a growling tone. "Is that, your car?" He pointed at the photo. Jesse faintly nodded as he hung his head low. "See? That isn't so hard. Next question; Are you familiar of a man by the name Todd Alquist?" Jesse nodded.

"How about two men named Hank Schrader and his partner Steven Gomez?" Jesse nodded again. "The man who killed them, Walter White, also know as Heisenberg, recently gave us the-"

"He didn't kill them." Jesse flatly interrupted with an emotionless expression on his face. "Not entirely." The interrogator looked to his partner with a sort of _take-this-down_ look, and turned back to Jesse. The other man took out a notepad and readied himself to start writing. Jesse told them the entire story of being in the desert, leaving out the part of getting taken to the hideout, which was pointless anyway. They didn't seem to notice until...

"What happened to you then? Your friends said you went missing for approximately six months." Jesse thought about just spilling, but going to prison wasn't exactly his priority. But then again, what else did he have to lose? Maybe it'd be better behind bars, nobody would get killed because of him. "So you're saying that the neo-nazi gang are the people who killed Hank and Gomez, took 80 big ones from Heisenberg, and somehow 'forgot' you there? I highly doubt that, kid." They knew what happened, Jesse knew they knew, they just wanted to hear him say it.

"They took me okay?!" He abruptly shouted at the man, his voice shaky and hoarse. "Is that what you wanted to hear, huh? Is that sinking in you son of a bitch?!" He was panting slightly now, wondering if they'd slap on the cuffs again. The thought made him go light-headed. Instead, the man harshly smiled and leant on the table.

"Glad you're cooperating." The man pulled out another photo from his file and slapped it onto the table. The photo was ripped up and in horrible shape, and was also difficult to make out. Jesse leaned slightly forwards and let his face fall into remorse and heartbreak. It was the same image of Andrea and Brock used to blackmail him, except there was a rip straight down the middle, separating the mother and son. "Do you know this woman? Andrea Cantillo and her son, Brock Cantillo. The woman in this photo was killed about 6 months ago. This photo was found inside a pit, presumably _yours_, at the hideout of the neo-nazi's." Jesse's lip started to quiver and his face grimaced as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"Do you know her or not? The sooner the question is done the sooner it's over." The man irritatingly repeated, growing impatient. The other man in the room raised his eyebrows as if his partner was treating Jesse a bit too harshly and vile. Jesse however, began to cry in front of the two men, careless about showing vulnerability. Ralph cuffed Jesse's wrists just before the both of them stepped out of the room, figuring that Jesse wasn't going to say anymore.

"Girlfriend would be my guess." The harsh man predicted aloud as he closed the door to the interrogation room behind him.

"Don't you think you were a bit hard on him?" Marie stood from her seat beside the camera filming into the two-way mirror. Skyler sat diagonally behind her, weary-eyed and near emotionless.

"Thought you didn't have any sympathy for the kid?" Ralph readied himself to walk out of the room to get a coffee. "Plus, didn't he help the infamous 'Heisenberg'?"

"Well... yeah, but if you want answers..."

"Look, if you want to talk to the kid, Steve'll be happy to supervise. Meanwhile, I'm gonna get a coffee. Anyone want some?" No reply. "Right. I'm going to go contact anyone from his family where he could possibly stay for a bit before we get all the evidence and slap on the cuffs." He wryly grinned as he walked out.

Marie turned her head around to face Skyler, who was scratching the back of her neck and looking just as irritating as Marie. "Am I the only one with common sense here?" Marie let out for Steve to hear.

"Marie not now." Skylar massaged her temple to try to relieve stress, though it wasn't working.

"No- no, okay? I want answers to..." Marie paused, hesitating to say the name. "...Hank. I want answers to this entire thing." she held onto her knees, massaging them with her thumbs to let off steam. She finally stood up from her seat and barged into the interrogation room, where Jesse was hidden under his arms on the table, breathing as if whimpering were the only way to breathe.

"You want to know so bad?" Jesse exclaimed. "I tried to escape... and what do I get for that, huh?" His voiced cracked at this point. "She gets murdered... by that psychopathic son of a bitch... right in front of me... You..." He wasn't exactly crying much any more but his voice trailed off anyway. Marie stood by the shut door, staring as she had no idea how to comfort. She stunned herself of how spooked she was, looking at the familiar younger man. Jesse's vibe seemed... off. The last time they had met, he was merely just an extremely depressed character but now... he was just a shell of what used to be a living person. It nearly brought her to tears.

"I..." She started, unable to finish. All that came out of her mouth was a useless "I'm sorry." Jesse looked up from his position to stare at Marie. It made her hairs stick on end. Jesse looked right through her, eyes empty and dead of life.

"If it helps..." He croaked, barely letting out a whisper. "I wish I would've been shot in the head that day, like I supposed to be." He continued, no expression of his face anymore. Marie wiped away a stray tear and stared, speechless. _He would have rather died, instead of Hank. _A part of her wanted to go over and hug the broken man across the room, but figured not due to trauma issues. Where did he have to go? What if they hadn't found his family?

Marie backed out slowly, figuring that she had nothing to really say to comfort him. Nothing to really say except, 'Hey, I partially hate you and want you arrested but can you cheer up so we can get you behind bars?'. But... now she didn't think like that anymore, after all, he isn't actually 'the great Heisenberg', right? And... _Christ_, what he went through. She sympathised, and empathised with him as well, having a loved one of hers killed, and never being able to at least see his body for about six months.

Ralph stepped back in, coffee in one hand and file case under his armpit. He walked over to the camera and pressed an intercom button nearby the table it was placed on. "I've contacted your parents, Pinkman, you'll be in their custody until we bring you back for more questions." Marie stood nearby Steve, against the wall. Upset and most of all, _worried_, for the kid. As if she were a mother to a son she never had.

* * *

Jesse sat in the backseat of his parents' car, staring out of window. Last time he was in a car, it was speeding away from the neo-nazi hideout, before that, it was being held down as they killed a loved one. The car started to move and the sooner they got to his parents' house, the more Jesse thought about his fate by the end of all of this.

He hadn't seen his parents in at least a year or over, and every time he did, he would always bring disappointment. Firstly because he'd gotten way too high and ran off there to stay, and that happened an extra few times as well. Second, when they kicked him out of his own house as they discovered his lab in the basement. Third, when he bought the house back and did a few things so they couldn't do anything about it. And now, he'd killed a man, been taken into custody, and will eventually be taken to prison.

The car parked in the driveway of his parents' house. The door of the vehicle slid open, letting the sun shine a quarter way inside the car and onto Jesse's legs. His mother stood outside the car, giving a sad smile as tear tracks shone against her cheeks. She helped him out and he groaned as his body went in a position that triggered an aching pain against his bruises underneath. Jesse walked as if he were still chained to manacles; his feet too close together, as well as his wrists. His shoulders always seemed tensed. "Here, let's get you..." His mother paused, sniffling and holding in an urge to burst into tears. "...cleaned up..." She softly spoke, her gentle touch on her oldest son's shoulder, leading him towards the house. "Cut your hair maybe, feed you up..." Jesse decided not to reply, or as a matter of fact, talk at all. He'd made the mistake of speaking at Badger's. Whenever he spoke, he got involved, and whenever he got involved, someone always got hurt because of him. _No more risks._

As soon as he got in, he dressed in more comfortable clothing since Badger's clothes were too big for him, he brushed his teeth after not doing so for six months, took another shower in the same day, and later allowed his Dad to cut his hair so that it was short and sticking out in every direction, like it had been about two years ago. By the time he was done, it was already evening and Mom was making dinner. Chicken stew with mashed potatoes and gravy. Jesse ate a bit, but it was useless anyway, considering that he threw it all up less than 20 minutes later. _Not used to bigger sizes of meals yet, I guess._

Jake didn't bother talking to him, he felt as if it weren't really the time to talk. Plus, what exactly do you say to a brother that just came back from being tortured for six months? You can't necessarily complain about school, or friends- _Hey, I know you've just been tormented for several months but my teacher was being really annoying today by giving us a shitload of work..._- it just doesn't work.

Both Jesse's parents helped him into his old bedroom, which he had once spent a night in, two years ago. What did his parents think of him now? Not only have they discovered everything that happened, but the neo-nazi's kept his confession tape that the police probably later discovered that night. What if they were to see that? What would that make of him? It'll all be let out... and he'll more than disappoint this time.

Jesse flipped over in his bed, so that his chest faced the ceiling, only to see that his wrists were shackled together again, along with his feet and waist. Suddenly, all around him turned into the same pit he had spent six months in. He looked up to see the entire gang, bigger than usual, laughing at him, taunting him, whispering. He turned his head to the side to see Andrea, Brock, Jane, Gale... _Walt_, all dead but alive, yelling and crying at him for killing them, for hurting them. Mr. White telling him for what seemed like more than a thousand times that he had watched Jane die. And then he woke up screaming, followed later by sobbing and wailing non-stop for the rest of the night, his parents comforting and 'shushing' him through it all. His mother crying as she held him in her arms.

This went on for more than several nights. In fact, it never stopped.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Nothing really to note down... except um I hope that this is good and I hope that you enjoy. Oh and by the way, I really don't know what Jesse's parent's names are so I'm just going to make up names... I'm also not sure exactly how old Jesse is (or when his birthday is)... my guess would be that since the series aired in 2008, that would be near the chosen timeline (2009 most likely?) so Walt would have died by 2010 or 2011? That would make Jesse about 26 or turning 27 by the end of the show...? Oh well. I'll just go with my little timeline.**

**EDIT: I've just been informed that Mr. Pinkman's name was Adam... so the names will be slightly altered.**

**I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.**

* * *

_"Yeah, hello?" Jake picked up the phone, breathlessly, at the last ring as he ran towards it. His Mom glanced at him with an unapproving look, as if he were speaking incorrectly and rude."Uhh Pinkman residence... I guess."_

_"This is Ralph Kindle from the Police Enforcement, is Mrs. Pinkman available at the moment?" Jake suddenly felt nervous, as all other people do as soon as the word 'police' is mentioned. He debated whether to give the phone to his Mom or not, but eventually he spoke up._

_"Uh, yeah," Jake walked over to his mother, who was sitting at the dinner table reading the daily paper with great interest, a headline of; INFAMOUS METH MANUFACTURER 'HEISENBERG' FOUND DEAD AT GANG HIDEOUT. "For you." He handed the phone over to his mother and walked to his room quickly._

_"Hello?" Janette (Mrs. Pinkman) held the phone in between her neck and ear as her eyes followed the words on the newspaper._

_"Hello, Janette Pinkman. This is Ralph Kindle from the Albuquerque Police Enforcement." Immediately, Mrs. Pinkman let her newspaper fall flat against the table. The thoughts in her mind were racing to what could have the police calling. Part of her thought that her own husband had done something, someone in her family must have- oh. Jesse. And sure enough, "I'm calling to inform you about your son, Jesse Pinkman." There was a moment of complete silence through the line. "Hello...?"_

_Janette eventually brought herself to speak, massaging her temple with her left hand. "Is... is he in trouble...? Has he..." She incautiously continued, "...His drugs...?"_

_"Has your son dealt with drug problems, m'am?" And this was where she realised her mistake in mentioning anything about that._

_"I-... He-"_

_"M'am, I do not care whether your son has dealt with drugs in the past... He's clean, anyway... most likely." He interrupted, saving her the trouble._

_"Then... then why are you calling?" She asked, nearly shaking to the thought of what the true reason may be._

_"Mrs. Pinkman, before I reveal what has happened in the past few months I need you to prepare yourself to what may be considered overwhelming." Ralph warned before finally saying, "Your son was found earlier today and has been taken into custody for questioning. Assuming you and your son never had any connection for a while, you might've not been aware, he has been missing for approximately six months, and when we found him, he was in... a traumatic condition." Janette froze up, incredulous to what was coming through the line. "We've discovered that Jesse had been held captive at the familiar Neo-Nazi gang hideout that was possibly mentioned in a paper recently about the whole 'Heisenberg' business- I don't know." She glanced at the newspaper, her shock now focused on her son rather than the fact that his former chemistry teacher was an infamous murderer and meth cook._

_"Oh... God..." She breathed out, barely a whisper. Tears strung in her eyes as she held her hand to her mouth._

_"He will be staying in your custody until needed for further questioning... pick him up... more information... he is in traumatised state..." All she heard was ringing, the man on the line blanking out of her hearing. Her son was held hostage and tortured for the past six months, and she hadn't even known._

* * *

Jesse woke the next morning, having had only 3 hours of sleep the previous night. His Mom was in the same room, weary eyed, as if she hadn't slept at all. "Hey..." She softly greeted, gently placing her palm onto Jesse's knee from above the bed sheet. "Get more rest. You barely slept." Jesse stared at nothing, expressing an emotionless look, which worried his Mother profoundly. "I..." She wiped away a stray tear, before continuing to speak. "I could make you soup. You could try eating again... Something more of a liquid." Jesse shook his head. There was a moment of silence before Janette stood up and laid a kiss onto her broken son's forehead, then proceeded to step out of the room, closing the door mid-way behind her.

Jesse slowly got up, pulling his legs forcefully out of the bed altogether before remembering again that he didn't have the manacles any more. Though, he still wobbled towards the door, legs and wrists close together, shoulders tensed. He quietly opened the door and stepped into the hallway, planning to go into the washroom without making a noise to bother anybody, just in case they might get angry with him for doing so. In the pit, if he would start crying to the point where it woke one of the gang members, he'd get yelled at or be forced to shut up by having a gag placed into his mouth, or something involving more violence. Though in reality, anyone in this household would be glad to hear just a word from him.

He heard whining voices from the kitchen, and to his curious-ness, he sneaked to the entrance, peeking through to see what all the ruckus was from his parents.

His Dad, Adam, sat beside Janette, arm wrapped around her back so that his hand was against her shoulder as she weeped. "We should have let him stay when we had the chance," she cried out softly as if Jesse and Jake were still sleeping. "We could have stopped this from happening, Adam! We could have, I-" she trailed off into a river of tears. Adam hushed her and he hugged her closer, telling her false words of comfort; "It'll be okay."

"Oh God... Some police officer is visiting today to reveal some... something else about Jesse..." She wiped away her tears with her hand, then continued to speak, "What if they come to take him-"

"They won't, Jen... They wouldn't so soon." Adam assured, yet he wasn't so sure himself.

There was a knock at the door just then, and Janette looked to her husband with profound panic plastered onto her face. He stared back at her with sad eyes before he got up to answer the door. Jesse ran back to his room before he could be seen, but snuck back out as a man with a suit walked past the corridor and into the living room.

"... Found this disk at the Neo-Nazi hideout." The man spoke, ending his sentence as Jesse peeked through. "The DEA agent, Hank Schrader, that we told you about..." The two worried parents nodded their heads. "Yeah well, the story was that he let your son stay at his household for a limited amount of time to film a confession video to put Walter White, also known as Heisenberg, behind bars. This revealed the entire story over the past year and a half just before Jesse was taken by the gang. I thought you two would like to know what was going on." He took the white tinted disk out of its container and slid it into the DVD player.

The screen went staticky for a moment, and then Jesse, from several months ago, displayed on the screen, looking distressed and near-broken. 'I first met Mr. White... Walter White... In Junior year Chemistry...' Jesse spoke. Janette held both her hands to her mouth.

'He was my teacher.'

* * *

Jesse snuck back into his room as the disk began to play, unbearable to seeing himself admit all those things; _killing_ someone in cold blood. He hated seeing his previously kleptomaniac parents so... full of awe at his actions. But he deserved the disappointment, didn't he?

They knew everything now. They knew what had happened throughout the past two years. They knew about Gale, Brock, Jane, Andrea, Todd... One thing was on Jesse's mind at the moment and it was that he was never going to see a happy ending to this. He can't go to Alaska; his face will be everywhere, he doesn't have money, a car... He doesn't have any happiness either. And how could he live with the fact that he basically killed his own girlfriend? He still couldn't live with it up to today... Who could?

He wondered if they knew about that yet; that Walt killed Jane, and that he killed Andrea himself by trying to escape without thinking out possible outcomes. They probably did, now to think of it. _Fucking pathetic idiot_, Jesse forgot to remind himself today.

He had a new priority at the moment; to escape from _here_. It was near fucking impossible, but he needed to leave. Not only did he cut himself off completely from his own _family (_noting that he hadn't really seen them as family anymore_)_, but he could not spend the rest of his life in prison... he couldn't.

He sat on his bed, staring out the window from a distance. A part of him... missed the man who'd put him through all of this. Mr. White... The Devil himself. But also the closest thing he had to a father, after his own confirmed him to be a disappointment to the family.

He heard the man in the living room speaking aloud again, then later heard footsteps heavily walk down the corridor. _He's leaving... They've finished watching the tape..._ His parents would probably come in any minute, probably look at him completely different as they ever had before. Their son was not only a huge part in Meth Empire, but he was also a killer.

But at least he was home, _right_? But what exactly was _home_? Jesse didn't know anymore. Part of him started to believe that the pit, the meth lab was his home. But now... everything became so confusing. Home is where you're happy, where people actually wanted you and made you feel important... Wherever Jesse seemed to go, that was nowhere to be found.

Sure enough, his parents did walk in, or rather, only his Mom, her nose red and her eyes swollen from crying so much. Jesse sat at the edge of his bed, staring at his wrists which were now scarred eternally. He couldn't see it, but he could feel his Mother's eyes piercing through him. He hated it. It was no longer the same stare a worried Mother gives to her child... even the vibe was different.

She thought about walking forwards to speak, to allow her son to vent without a camera forcing him to do so. She knew already about Andrea, Jane... two girlfriends that she hadn't even known her son _had_. Both dead; killed. One by a former Chemistry teacher who stood by to watch, and one by trying to escape, eventually leading to the poor girl being murdered in front of Jesse himself, not being able to do anything. She _knew_ that Jesse blamed himself.

"None of this is your fault you know." Janette softly spoke. Jesse didn't look up from his wrists, he was barely even paying attention at all. She must have noticed and figured that she should give more time to think (which was a bad thing for Jesse), after all, he had just arrived the previous day. "Love you." She gave a sad smile, knowing that he wouldn't have seen it anyway, and closed the door behind her as she left the room.

* * *

He was in the pit again, except it was much larger and brighter than usual. There was also no gang members around to taunt and mock him. Jesse, stilled chained, walked forwards, further into the pit which seemed to go on forever, until he saw a familiar figure standing at the end; Jane.

Jesse stood, now unable to move as Jane slowly approached, gliding across the floor resulting an eerie vibe. "Jane...?" He croaked, reaching his hands forward to touch the deceased one in front of him, only for his fingers to fade right through her. She was crying now, and before Jesse knew it, she started to scream at him- _Why did you let me die?!_-, triggering Jesse to flinch and stumbled back in fright. As Jane continued to cry, she eventually vaporized into a new figure, who cried out to him just as much; _Why did you kill me?! Why did you hurt Brock?! Why did you hurt us?!_

Andrea.

Jesse started to cry in his sleep; pleading and swearing against his life that he was sorry. He bolted awake, panting and hitching with every breath. His parents were there again, just as they were the previous night. Jesse sat upright, grimacing as he covered his face with his hands to start sobbing. "I didn't mean to kill them..." He impotently and repeatedly cried out, wiping away tears as he did. His Mom slowly approached, wrapping her arms around his tiny frame. "I didn't want to..." She held him close to her chest, shushing him as he desperately apologised- "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."- to no one in particular.

* * *

His birthday was in six days, and he'd be turning 27; September, 15. It hadn't even been nearly a week since he had escaped from the pit but something about him spoke- no... He couldn't think like that. A part of him thought it was better in the pit, at the hideout. While he was there, his mind was more occupied to other things going on. But now that he was out, he had all the time in the world to reflect, and he hated it.

Jesse wobbled into the kitchen, disregarding his Mother sitting at the table, staring at her own cooked food as if it were invisible. He open the cupboard to grab a glass for a drink of water, since it felt as if he hadn't drunk anything in forever. As he descended the glass, it slipped out of his grip and shattered into pieces onto the floor. His Mom turned her head in human instinct towards the commotion, then looked up at her son who stared back at her with pure terror and eyes at the verge of releasing tears. "I... I didn't... mean to." He forced out in a cracked and broken voice, holding in the urge to start hyperventilating as panic rose up. _She's gonna hit me... _"It slipped out... out of my hand... I didn't..." But his voice trailed off as he found it harder to breathe. _Fucking panic attack... not now..._

Janette gulped down the urge to cry- she had to be strong for herself, for her son, whether or not he didn't see her much as a mother anymore- and stood up from her seat to walk towards Jesse and guide him to sit in the seat beside hers, comforting him and trying to calm him down as she did so. Jesse's breathing patterned didn't seem to slow down as she knelt to pick up the shards of glass.

Janette threw the pieces of glass into the garbage after wrapping them in newspaper for safety hazard. She settled a new glass of water and placed it in front of Jesse, sitting down where she was previously. "We would never hurt you, sweetheart," she slowly croaked, placing her hand on Jesse's forearm, but retrieving it as he flinched profoundly. He picked up the glass of water, trembling as he did so, and held it to his mouth to drink. "What they did to you was horrible... beyond words horrible..." Her voice trailed off for a moment as she tried to find her voice again. "But we would never hurt you." She didn't exactly know what else to say. Anything she could say could result to bad memories, bad flashbacks...

She dared to think about it, but a part of her felt as if her son would never be the same again. That's a bit of an understatement; she _knew_ that he would never be the same again. Those monsters broke him, and the aftermath that they brought onto her son... She couldn't do a thing about it.

* * *

Jesse spent the rest of the day outside, staring at nothing. He wasn't the person to result to suicide, but then again, he had contemplated it countless times before. What else did he have to live for? His entire shell of a body was full of complete grief and guilt and _depression_; before _and_ after his capture.

The thought of death, at the moment, seemed preferable than the thought of living the full experience that is life.

* * *

**A/N: Leave a review please! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Nothing to really add here. Uh... I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this so... yeah. Thanks to yuode123 for informing me of the name of certain characters. This is really bad and I suck at writing but I tried... so uh leave a review please! **

**WARNING: Flashback containing cruelty and violence physically and verbally, attempted sexual violation. Possible trigger warning.**

**I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.**

* * *

_**September 20, 6:00AM**_

_Jesse pulled the hood over his head so that it resulted a shadow over his eyes. He speed-walked down the pavement, taking notice of the rising sun. He had to leave quick. They're going to notice that he was gone in just a matter of minutes._

_He reached into his pocket to fiddle with the dollar bills within it, checking once again to see if it had the same amount as before._

_He turned the corner to cross the street, remaining uncertain of his destination. He couldn't exactly go to Alaska, him having no possession of any car. And he didn't even know how to contact Saul's 'get-away' guy._

_Jesse grew dubious as he walked further and further away from his parents' house. He had a huge risk of getting caught but... he couldn't stay there. Not only would he end up behind bars but... he hated being imprisoned at 'home' as well, whether or not it was better than in the pit._

_He crossed an intersection of a main road to walk along a sidewalk which had a barb wired fence alongside it, a massive field of lengthy plants leading to a medium-sized area of woods and trees. Jesse climbed his way over, pushing his way through the field as sirens were now heard in the distance.  
_

* * *

Jesse spent the next few days outside, staring at nothing except the sky and nature around him. Thinking about nothing in particular, except of how it was all going to turn out in the end.

He didn't exactly know if he got what he wanted. Sure, he escaped from that... that _hell_... But was this any better?

The days of September 13th and 14th, he was taken in for more questioning, which he still didn't answer much to, regardless of whether or not the handcuffs were on him. He figured that he would never completely escape what the memories of the hideout had branded onto him. Marie talked to him a bit more this time, along with Mrs. White- _Skylar_ separately (one on each day).. Jesse knew they were toying with him and comforting him to get more answers, of course he knew. Though in reality, Marie _and_ Skylar felt nothing more than sorrow as they pitied the tormented kid.

* * *

His parents made many more attempts to get him to talk words that weren't consisted of pleading, or begging or crying, only to fail as that was all that Jesse gave them.

Eventually, along came his birthday; September 15th. He was turning 27. Not like it made any difference to his life, though he was still glad that he wasn't spending today in the pit... who knows what they would've done to him if they had found out about his 'special day'. His Dad provided the family of 'four' with cake, which Jesse didn't eat. His present was a card containing loving words with a bit of cash; Jesse thought enigmatically as he took it; he would be going to prison in a matter of time, why would he need money?

But maybe he had a chance of not going to jail... I mean, if his face was let out in public (it probably already was), he'd be seen as the _victim_ rather than the _suspect_. But that didn't really change the states of law.

God, he could _really_ go for a hit right now. The thing was, that Jesse never really used his drugs for a method of 'just because'... it was more rather used in the terms of numbing out the pain and stress of his life. Jesse thought about sneaking off to see Badger or Pete to buy some off of them but quickly came to the conclusion that-_ oh, I'm not allowed to leave, unless I'd want to be in fugitive state._

He looked off out his window as he placed himself at the edge of his bed, slipping into an old oversized hoodie as he did so. Part of that thought gained his interest; sneaking off, escaping... that was an idea. Although it was beyond words better than at the gang hideout, this place wasn't more than merely an imprisonment with his own blood. He had to escape, that was the least of his problems.

Jesse watched as the sun completely disappeared from view, sharply exhaling as if he were holding his breath. _Tonight,_ he sighed, wiping away his weary eyes. _I'll do it tonight._

And so he waited, hours until the sky struck midnight, hesitating every time he tried to leave his bedroom. Some of him still thought that someone he loved (Brock, in other words... who else_ did_ he love?) would get killed because of him if he dared to escape, and because of that, Jesse let himself fall beneath his pillows and into another painstaking night of restless sleep.

* * *

For the next few days, Jesse's parents attempt to take him to therapy sessions, but Jesse refused. He didn't really feel like venting about his problems, nor was he in the mood for bullshit advice just yet.

Janette blamed herself everyday for being so oblivious of her son's well-being over the past few months. She had known nothing about this... _torturing_ of her son. All she had known, was the police hunting for Jesse for a few weeks in the midst of April. Assuming it was for drug related reasons, she stayed out- _they_ stayed out, wanting nothing to do with their _disappointment of a family member_. But then a month or so later... she was informed that Jesse had been missing for quite some time and was nearly being presumed _dead_.

And what did she do?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

* * *

He forced himself to quietly pull open the door and step into the corridor, bringing his birthday money from atop of the drawer with him.

The entire house was silent, no sound except for a whirring from the air vents. Jesse snuck into the kitchen to get his hands on a few granola bars for the road, stuffing several of them into the pocket of his oversized hoodie.

He then tiptoed towards the front door, moving his trembling hand towards the knob, then quickly yet swiftly turning it to open the door midway. _This is it._ Jesse stepped out, closing the door as quietly behind him. He took a deep breath, then started to walk, to who the fuck knows where.

He pulled out the dollar bills from his pocket and counted; 100 dollars. _Un-fucking-believable_, Jesse let out a small giggle to himself. _I go from being a millionaire to a homeless fugitive with only a single hundred._

But he would have taken homeless fugitive instead of murderer millionaire any day, before all of this.

* * *

**8:00AM**

It had felt as if walking through the small patch of woods had taken hours once he finally hit road again. He made his way down the pavement, letting out more relief to the fact that he couldn't hear sirens any longer. After a fair amount of time, the road between walls of trees eventually lead to a few more plazas and supermarkets, and just in time too, considering that Jesse was nearly stumbling with every step of exhaustion.

He went into the cheapest and most low quality convenience store that he could find and bought a bottle of water. Now, the only problem was... where would he go- or rather, how would he even travel? You can't get anywhere fast and _silent_ by foot.

But either way, he still had one place he had to visit; no doubt.

* * *

Brock swung back and forth on the cheaply made swing dangling from a branch of a tree in the backyard of his house, or rather, his _Grandma's_ house.

Nowadays, he usually spent his weekends outside, doing nothing really, whereas before, he would spend his days playing video games and eating all the junk foods that were meant for school. But ever since his Mom-... ever since _it_ happened, he seemed to want to spend more time outdoors, hoping one day that his Mom would come by and hug him in her arms.

But she never came.

Brock jumped off his swing and wiped his brow as the heating sun warmed against his flesh. Maybe he should go back inside for a bit to cool down? But could he take the risk? What if his Mom would come when he's gone?

The six-year-old reluctantly took a few steps forwards, then picked up his pace to start walking faster towards his back door. He paced down as the jingling sound from the chain-linked fence surrounding his backyard was vibrating through his ears. Brock turned around to see a familiar figure painfully jump himself over the fence, cradling the left side of his chest as he landed.

"J-Jesse?!" Brock smiled and ran forwards, throwing himself into Jesse's chest, wrapping his arms tightly around the man's... oddly small and fragile figure. It was different- _something_ was different, Brock could tell. Though at that same moment he realised something else as well. He forced himself away with a pout from Jesse's chest, right after Jesse had finished embracing him. "You're... here..." Brock let out slowly, hesitating to speak the words popping up in his mind.

"I'm... here." Jesse responded in a hoarse tone- _Even his voice is different,_ Brock noticed. The father figure gave Brock a sad smile and stared at him with tired eyes. Speechless of what to say exactly- he looked more like he wanted to cry- Jesse remained silent for moments before Brock spoke up again.

"You're here _now_." Brock spat, harshly. He was... angry, frustrated. His... Mom was... was _killed_ six months ago, and _now_ Jesse decides to show up?! "Where were you when... when she..." Brock paused, swallowing down the lump in his throat and fighting back the tears in his eyes. Jesse knew what was coming and blinked rapidly to avoid breaking down in front of the kid; he couldn't do that, he couldn't put more pressure onto already stacked pressure. "When my Mom died." Brock continued slowly, his small voice trailing high pitch at the last syllables. He wiped away his eyes and frowned again, "Where were you when she _died_?!" He repeated, raising his voice, though not very effective with that lump increasing in the centre of his throat.

Jesse gulped, not having the slightest idea of what to say to a six-year-old _kid_ who had just lost his mother- _just_ meaning six months ago. "Brock, I... I-"

"No!" The smaller boy shouted as he looked up at Jesse, cutting him off before he could even think of what to say. "You weren't there! I didn't have anyone and you left me alone!" He cried out, oblivious to whether his Grandma could hear what was happening outside. Jesse fought back tears- more than just tears- as he listened to Brock's ranting. "Go away! Go away and never come back! I never wanna see you again!" Tears streamed down Brock's round-faced cheeks as he turned his back towards Jesse, walking off to the swing set with his arms crossed.

Jesse bit his bottom lip, preparing himself to speak up, hoping not to replace his words with sobs. "...Good... bye, Brock. I, uh... I'm sorry." His voice cracked when he spoke, tears streamed down his face as he stood, shaking, where he was for a brief moment of silence. Brock debated whether to apologise or not... Mommy had always told him not to take out his anger and frustration on other people... and taking it out on Jesse just felt... _wrong_. He hated the guilt of his words afterwards... yet at the same time he didn't want to apologise. He had a right to be angry, right? As Brock drifted into thought, he grew unaware of the following noises of the chain-linked fence.

Brock turned around fully to face towards Jesse, only to see that... Jesse wasn't there. He was gone.

_Whatever, I don't care,_ Brock thought harshly, though he wasn't exactly sure if he didn't care that Jesse was gone... After missing and wanting to see him for six months, he finally _did_ and now... he's gone again. _I made him leave._

And Brock would very much afterwards find out that you should always think before you act- another thing Mommy taught him- because you never know when the person you hurt would be gone in a matter of seconds.

* * *

_They were drunk again, Jesse could tell from the music being played from inside their clubhouse; they were having a party, presumably. Meanwhile, he was stuck in the lab, consuming more chemicals by the minute. Though, that seemed far more preferable than any time spent with Todd or the others._

_He hated when they got drunk; as if they weren't bad enough while sober. They would be more cruel than usual, pushing and pinning him down to the ground just to see how long it would take for him to start crying (sometimes he would cry anyway from the push, being already too overwhelmed), carelessly pressing the butts of their cigarettes wherever they wanted on Jesse's body as if he were an ashtray, throwing the worst insults possible... the list could probably go on endlessly._

_Though Jesse felt safe from them tonight since they usually never bothered him while cooking, but who knows how drunk a person can get to disregard those rules?_

_His hair was gross now, as he thought of it. Before it would stick out in all directions but over time it grew longer, resulting for it to part and lay flat onto his forehead; greasy and clearly unhealthy. They took it as an advantage, though; aggressively pulling on his hair purposely or using it as a better method to yank him wherever they wanted._

_The entrance of the lab slid open, allowing a rush of cold air to fill the room. Jesse slowly turned around, trembling slightly as he hoped to see Todd, though his hopes failed him as the sound of laughter and jeering echoed through the walls. "Hey ya' little rat!" One of the gang members had greeted in a slurred voice in which they all joined in as they walked forwards. There were only about four of them, excluding Todd._

_"I... I- I'm not done the cook..." Jesse reluctantly spoke, his voice trembling with fear. Sometimes if he spoke, no matter how innocent (and depending on who he was speaking to), he'd get harassed because of it. "I- I have to... finish." He stared at them with wide eyes._

_"And why's that?" One of the henchman- Kenny? - asked rhetorically. "Ya' should be done by now." He slurred, slowly stepping forwards, inching closer to Jesse as Jesse stepped back._

_"I... Just started..." His voice was hoarse from screaming and crying too much over the past three months. "Please... Leave- leave me alone... please..." He softly pleaded, his lower lip starting to slightly quiver. He glanced at Todd- who stood behind the whole group- as if to tell him to stop them from harassing him, Todd looked away uncomfortably. Jesse fought back tears, full-well knowing that they were going to end up falling down his cheeks anyway._

_He stepped backwards until he came to an abrupt stop; the 'leash' went to its limit._

_Jesse's bottom lip trembled as Kenny invaded his personal space, wryly smiling down on him. The gang member reached into his back pocket and pulled out a key to (afterwards) unlock the chain in which Jesse was attached to. There was a moment of brief silence, Kenny eyeing Jesse- who was now looking as if he were about to break down- as the others watched, holding in their laughter._

_Kenny abruptly grabbed Jesse by his hair and pulled him violently forwards, knocking him to the floor. The others roared in spontaneous laughter. The cruel member hauled Jesse across the floor, dragging him out of the lab from his hair. Jesse screamed and cried in terror as he moved his hands to the hands gripping tightly at his hair, though finding it difficult to even try to soften the grip due to his manacles._

_It all went by so fast and before Jesse knew it, he was in front of the clubhouse, up against the wall as Kenny released him. He cowered away from nearly the entire gang, who were laughing and jeering in slurred voices. "Get up, ya rat!" One of them demanded through their snickers._

_Jesse inched himself up, lowering his hands to face the crew, who were still teary eyed from laughing. He closed his eyes as he couldn't stop more tears from falling; they mocked him for being 'weak' and a 'disgrace' and countless other names which he thought were true._

_As he opened his eyes again, and the first thing he saw was one of the gang members preparing a hose (the same hose they use to 'bathe' him) that stretched from the distance of the pit._

_They were going to hose him down... in front of everyone..._

_Jesse began to breathe heavily as panic and embarrassment rose inside of him. One of the cruel men 'helped' him take off the manacles and let them fall to the ground. "Alright, now take 'em off, rat." One other gang member- Frankie, Jesse recalled - smirked mockingly. Jesse froze up, only able to stare as his face flushed red. "We're waitin'." Frankie continued, resulting a few more snickers and jeers from the crowd. Todd had walked off, seeming completely apathetic to the situation. Uncle Jack also stood fairly far off from the group, though he was still cruelly laughing along as he smoked his cigarette._

_"What- are ya shy?" Frankie laughed aloud as he turned his head to stare at the others. "Why don't y'all help him out, huh?" A few others in the small crowd snorted as two of the henchmen walked up to Jesse- who anxiously tried his best to get them to stay back but to no avail- and assertively pulled his worn shirt (which was Todd's) over his head, revealing his abused torso. Jesse tensed his shoulders as the cold air struck him once again, triggering goosebumps to rise on his arms._

_The gang 'meowed' and mocked as Jesse stood shirtless in front of them, giving seductive winks and distasteful words. Jesse pleaded as they went for his pants. He couldn't defend himself. Not only were they twice as huge as him but there was the fact that he was profusely outnumbered. Soon enough, he was up against the wall entirely nude, bare back turned towards the crew who were laughing hysterically, shouting out vile phrases._

_"Hey sexy!"_

_"I'm gon' rip that ass in two!"_

_"'This how you got Heisenberg to cook with you? Fuckin' rat."_

_"'Bet you got around, rat."_

_Jesse grimaced as he cried- thankful that no one could see his face- as he covered up as much nudity as he could._

_Then, the water hit him. It hit him like bullets made of ice; exploding against his flesh, hitting like hail as he cried aloud. To add onto the full-force, the water was so fucking freezing cold, and they had forced him to turn around to do his front._

_By the time they were done, Jesse's back and front dripped blood due to the force of the hose. And this happened nearly every week, excluding the public humiliation... Jesse had a feeling that this would be happening to him more often._

_Frankie quickly stepped forwards and forcefully slammed Jesse against the wall of their clubhouse, so that his back faced the gang once again. He whispered into Jesse's ear, loud enough for it to be audible to everyone else, "You're in for a good one... Bet you're once nice lay boy too, rat-"_

_"Hey, Frank." Jack walked forwards, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth as he did so. Frankie harshly held Jesse against the wall as he listened- "What?! I'm try'na teach the little bitch a lesson!"- to Jack, who seemed to grow more irritated by the minute. "Look, the piece of shit deserves whatever we give 'im but we don't do that kind'a shit 'round here, a'right?" Frankie hesitated before releasing Jesse, who tried his hardest not to start sobbing aloud, but failed as he did so anyway. The beaten man shook and trembled with not only fear, but the fact that he was so cold to the point of where he nearly felt numb. "Now hurry up and get the bitch some new fuckin' clothes. You already wasted more time by takin' him away from the lab." Few members of the gang drunkenly stumbled away as others stood where they were, doing nothing to get the scene moving, as if they took pleasure on watching their worthless pet break in front of them. Frankie gave Jesse a stare of contempt._

_"Hussle it up, lets get going!" Jack shouted angrily, walking back into the clubhouse. Todd arrived back, a bundle of his clothes already in his arms, as if he already knew what was going to happen._

_"Ah, good 'ol Toddy." Frankie sighed with a genuine warm smile towards Todd. "C'mon, let's have 'nother drink, shall we?" He slurred as he opened the door to the clubhouse, the others following._

_Todd helped Jesse into his clothes, then afterwards, chaining the manacles onto him once again, so that they cut into his wrists, ankles and compressed his waist. "Sorry 'bout that, Jesse." Todd apologised as he walked Jesse towards the lab to finish off the cook. "I'll tell 'em next time to leave you alone when you're cookin'- they really do like havin' you around you know- After all, we wouldn't want you to get a low purity, right? Wouldn't want you in for more trouble."_

* * *

**A/N: Leave a review! This chapter is kind of slow and bad, apologies :( **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Uh... okay. Well, not sure where I'm going with this but okay. I'm not that much a good writer... sorry about that. I sort of took a slight idea to this brbakinkmeme prompt thing, so I guess it's a sort of fill-in... Links don't work. Well, enjoy anyway... Oh God I'm so self-conscious this is bad.**

**WARNING: Near-mature themes/implications, drug abuse. Not graphic.**

**I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.**

* * *

"Yo, so you're sure no one, uh," Skinny Pete lead Jesse into his house, which was much like Badger's, as he spoke. He inched backwards and took quick glances outside to search for any possible police vehicle, only to find nil in such. "... Knows you're here, right?" Pete closed the door behind him and afterwards stood alongside Jesse, who looked more lost than tired. There were stray cigarette butts that lay in the agape cracks between the wall and the floor; ash stains following. This made the small corridor make the impression of what must be beyond the house. "Because, uh... y'know what happened last time you, uh..." Pete added, self-conscious of his words, feeling as if anything he'd say would trigger an unpleasant reaction.

"No..." Jesse started, inhaling deeply, inching his head down slightly to scratch his neck. "I... Nobody knows. Don't think they do." He turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of his friend, who gave an uncomfortable expression. "...Look, man, I just need to stay a night... or maybe even a few hours, then I'm gone." His voice was drained, he didn't plead, though his eyes said otherwise.

"No, man, I'm fine with you stayin'. It's just that... you know..." Pete couldn't comprehend the words to say but soon enough spat out, "You're kind of-"

"Yo, Skinny! Who's at the door?" A voice called from a room beyond the corridor. Badger's voice, Jesse recognised. Skinny Pete and Jesse walked along the corridor which lead to the living room, which was surprisingly tidy in comparison to Badger's place. Badger laid into the beige-stained sofa, widening his eyes and sitting up straight as soon as Jesse came into view. He gulped before words began to slip out of his mouth. "Woah, Jesse... Uh," He started awkwardly. "How you been holdin' up, yo?" Jesse didn't reply. He bit his tongue, holding back an impulsive to snap back at the stupid question.

Skinny and Badger caught eachothers eyes in the midst of the unsettling silence. Badger spoke up again, "Uh, you're in, like, all the news channels I've seen today. 'Armed and dangerous' apparently." He gave out a nervous chuckle, itching the back of his head subconsciously. "That's kind of why I'm over here... Uh..." Badger cut himself off as he noticed Jesse eyeing a half bag full of white powder that laid atop of the coffee table in front of the sofa. "Do you want a hit?"

If Jesse weren't so unstable at this point, he would have declined and called out on Badger for offering a person in a trauma _drugs. _But because he's _so fucking empty_, he accepts and walks over to take a seat near Badger as the older man prepared lines of the drug.

* * *

"Yo, Like, I say we totally go out and, like, party and shit." Skinny Pete stood up, his eyes off gaze and bolting about. "I know a good place that has a lot of naked bitches, know what I'm sayin'?"

Badger smiled lightly, squinting his eyes at his high friend. "Dude, you look like shit and you're talkin' about a club? I say we just party it up here. Invite some bitches, drink up..."

"What? So the cops could, like, come again? Nah, yo. Plus, we could, uh," Pete snorted his nostrils as he spoke. "We could all go out to party for Jesse. Since we never got to before, yo." He swept his index finger across his nostrils as he snorted again, feeling as if his nose was the most irritating thing of all.

"Yeah, man!" Badger responded enthusiastically. "Jesse, man, what d'you think?" He looked over to Jesse, awaiting a reply and not taking a notice of how unstable he looked.

Jesse heard his heart pound against his chest. _Thump. Thump. Thump._ He heard the two of them talking, he heard the words come out of their mouths but couldn't comprehend much of what to say. His body chilled as if he just came from ice-cold water. Jesse looked up, biting his lip. He faced Badger and smiled eerily, "Lets go."

* * *

Ringing was all that went through his ears as the music pounded through the room, along with the noises of dancing drunks and teenagers. The place Pete took them was just as big as he'd explained it on the unsteady and reckless car-ride here; nobody took panic or alarm that Skinny was completely high while driving.

The club had sections of lounges far off from the dance floor with black leather couches for people to sit. Most of the people there were either high, drunk, or having sex where everyone could see. And the trio just so happened to sit at one of these, joining along with the groups of the intoxicated.

"Yo! I told you this place was off the hook!" Skinny Pete shouted through the booming music, directing to Jesse and Badger.

"What?!" Badger shouted back, only hearing mumbles coming from Pete's mouth. Jesse stared at the flashing lights from the dance floor, finding them more fascinating than anything at all at the moment. Skinny gave a dismissive hand and went off to an unknown woman sitting at the opposite couch of the small sitting area they were at. Badger was rambling on about something Jesse couldn't hear.

"Hey." A woman sat down beside Jesse. She wore a black strapless dress which went to thigh-length, a hole near the chest to show slight cleavage. Jesse didn't stir. He stared at nothing within the darkness of the dance club, allowing the music to pump into his mind, to numb out all the stress and memories. The woman placed her gentle touch at Jesse's forearm, which made him start though she didn't seem to notice. He turned towards her with lost eyes. "Hey." She repeated before leaning forwards to brush her lips against Jesse's ear. "Lets go somewhere private."

* * *

After heading up a flight of stairs, the woman lead Jesse into a corridor that had doors to rooms alongside the scarlet painted walls. She walked towards a door at the far end and twisted open the knob. After entering the room, she closed the door behind her, making sure to lock it at the same time.

The room was near simple; A bed big enough for two, hardwood floor, a few couches placed around a coffee table, a TV, drawers, dark tinted lights...

The woman, who didn't look much older than 30, swept him from his feet; she easily and gently pushed him back to lay down against the bed. "You're a broken person. I could feel it." She whispered as their lips collided. Jesse followed whatever and wherever the situation was leading to. For the most part, he wasn't there at all, at least, his mind wasn't. The woman must have noticed, because she frowned, but then quickly switched to a seductive smile and sat up so that her rear was against Jesse's groin. "I can fix that." She breathed as he moved her legs over Jesse to step off the bed.

She stripped herself of clothing, leaving her bra and underwear on, as she reached into the cabinet of the nightstand that was placed next to the bed. She pulled out handcuffs from the drawer, then leaped back onto the bed to clasp Jesse's right wrist with the bars of the bed. "Broken boys gotta get beaten." She kissed him again, afterwards going for his pants before he screamed.

Jesse snapped from his mind and the first thing he saw was that he was chain to a bed. The handcuffs looked awfully similar to the manacles and that's when the images came back into his mind. He was back in the _Hell_, Oh God Oh God Oh _God_. He screamed until he burst in tears, pleading for his life. "Please! No!... No... Please! I'm sorry!" He sharply inhaled to let out a loud wail of torment. The woman startled back in profound confusion and fear. What had she done? Obviously she'd gotten his consent hadn't she? Why is he...

Jesse started to sob loudly, screaming for help as he violently yanked at the 'manacles'. The woman quickly dressed and retrieved her key to unlock the handcuffs. As soon as the handcuffs released the sobbing man, Jesse turned to his side and covered his ears, screaming and crying as he began to hyperventilate due to extreme anxiety building up through his body. The woman stood by, unable to move without Jesse pleading at her to leave him alone.

The door abruptly swung open, revealing Badger and Skinny Pete standing at the entrance. "Woah, holy shit!" They both ran forwards. The woman was just about to call out on these random men to find out if they had followed her and... the 'broken' man. "The hell did you do to him?" Badger exclaimed at the woman.

"Nothing! He... he..." But she didn't continue as the situation unfolded by the second. Badger knelt in front of Jesse, trying to get his hands off his ears to relax him. Pete noticed the handcuffs and eventually came to conclusions.

"Jesse. Jesse. You alright? C'mon yo." Badger attempted again to calm his wailing friend down. Jesse eventually allowed his hands to be taken from his face. Badger helped him sit up, incompetently telling him to breathe and relax as Jesse's breathing pace increased. "C'mon Jesse."

The woman took a half-step forwards before speaking up, reluctantly, "Hold on, his name's Jesse. As in Jesse Pinkman?" The two of the turned their heads in confusion. Her eyes widened as she brought her hands to her mouth, incredulously speaking, "Holy shit. He's the guy on TV, isn't he? The fugitive. Thought he looked familiar." Skinny Pete glanced at Badger, who caught his eyes. Badger jerked his head in the direction of Jesse and they both supported their broken friend to walk until the came to the door. "Hey! I'm calling the fucking cops!" They headed out anxiously, growing more panicked by the second.

They walked through the pounding music, ignoring the staring eyes as they passed by.

* * *

After parking the car at Skinny Pete's driveway, Badger and Pete contemplated the situation as Jesse slept in the backseat, completely exhausted. They figured to stay in the car until he would wake up, which would end up being approximately an hour later.

**3:00AM**

Jesse sat up with a croak, his two other friends turned their heads from their seats and stared at him with their weary eyes. "What happened?" He groaned. Badger took a glimpse to Pete and opened his mouth to speak.

"Uh, you know... Not much. You just, uh, passed out, yo." He started awkwardly. The moment led on with silence and suspense before Skinny Pete shifted his body slightly to face Jesse, given the amount of space that was in the car. Badger jerked his head slightly in Jesse's direction.

"Listen, Jesse. You're on, like, all news programs and radio stations and shit. Literally everyone's lookin' for you, yo." He spoke in a slow pace, picking out his words carefully as they slipped out of his mouth. Jesse gulped, he knew what was coming. "The cops'll probably park outside both our cribs tomorrow, yo. You bein' a fugitive and all." Jesse remained silent and nodded his head in acceptance, expressing a worried look. Badger noticed.

"Hey hey hey, look, we want you here, man. But I just... y'know, I got a new job and I can't really be goin' to jail again-" Badger spoke but was interrupted.

"Yeah. I get it... Could you just... " Jesse inhaled as he closed his eyes and massaged his temple. "Nevermind. I'll see you 'round." He opened his eyes again and faintly nodded. Badger and Skinny gave sad smiles as Jesse opened the door to the car and walked out, closing it behind him.

They watched him wobble away, shoulders tensed and limbs close together as he faded further into the night.

* * *

**A/N: Review please!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: YOOOOOOO so thanks for the 19 reviews! Keep it up! Sorry if this is bad. Please review!**

**WARNING: Flashback of violence.**

**I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.**

* * *

_Frankie had harshly dragged him, in the middle of his sleep, out of the pit and into their clubhouse where most of the drunken gang stood (it was late and some of them had gone home). He yanked on Jesse's lengthy hair and pushed him ahead, causing Jesse to stumble forwards, nearly tripping, with a gasp. He stood in the middle of the room, beginning to tremble as the scent of alcohol filled the room. "Hey, rat." Uncle Jack slurred, cigarette in his mouth while he smiled wickedly. "Know why you're here?" He added._

_Jesse glance about, trying not to take note of some of the gang members tightening their fists or winking at him. His bottom lip began to quiver as he faced back to Jack with a stare of utter fear, tears now noticeable in his eyes. Anyone else would have felt guilt, remorse, **anything** as a result to the despair look Jesse gave, but Uncle Jack just smiled wider. "Your cook. It was damn well lower than the last one you did. Busy jackin' off at the job, rat?" Jesse gave a sheepish expression and blankly waited for the scene to pass on, hoping on his life that it wouldn't evolve to anything of much violence. It was pointless to hope any of that because it happened anyway._

_One of the gang members violently pushed him forwards, resulting in Jesse to fall flat on his face against the floor, barely missing the sharp point of their glass coffee table which was placed in the centre between about three sofas. The room burst with drunken laughter as Jesse struggled to get up from the floor, only to be aggressively kicked down again. Most of the crew surrounded as the others drank more beer and snickered as the group harassment went along._

_They had kicked him in all places of his body, heavily stepped on him (his face mostly) with their filthy footwear, spit on him, called him appalling words and said vile things, Frankie even started to strangle him with his bare hands until he nearly fainted. It all eventually lead up to Jesse coughing up a storm until blood came out from his throat as he curled up on the floor, quiet whimpers slipping out of his mouth. He was pretty sure that one of them has busted a few of his ribs._

_"Hey, the rat's cryin'. Not loud though; that ain't fun." Kenny taunted, earning a few snickers from the gang. He picked up a handful of Jesse's hair and slammed his head against table, triggering the far younger man to yelp in pain. Kenny leant forwards to get closer to Jesse's ear, "Now, your last batch was 87-fuckin-percent." He growled. "You outta be workin' twice as hard next time, right?" Kenny added in a nicer tone that Jesse never wanted to hear again. His eyes were wide and he was shaking under Kenny's grip, faintly nodding given the position that he was in._

_Kenny let go and Jesse let himself fall to the floor before Kenny jerked him back up to sit in kneeling position. Uncle Jack put out his cigarette at the ashtray placed on the table and walked forwards, pulling out a switch blade from the back pocket of his pants. Jesse held in more tears as few were already falling out._

_Jack knelt, one knee up, to level up to Jesse, who looked more traumatised than ever before. Jack got hold of Jesse from the back of his head, gripping onto his long hair which made Jesse grunt from the soreness of his scalp. "Just so we get this clear," Uncle Jack started as he brought the knife closer to Jesse's face. His grip tightened so that Jesse couldn't turn away. "People are payin' fine cash for this meth here, a'right? Next time you get somethin' lower than 90," He pierced the knife right below Jesse's right eye, enough to allow blood to flow out of his flesh. Jesse began to breathe quickly and let out groans as a painful stinging hit against his skin. He's gonna cut out my eye... Oh God oh God oh God... Jesse must have accidentally whispered that aloud because the others gave out quiet snickers. "You're losin' the eye." And with that, he released the gang's pet, allowing him to sink in the threat. Jesse finally let out a whimper, which lead to him crying aloud, covering his face with his hands that later grew bloody due to the new cut below his eye._

_"Aw. Think ya hurt his feelin's, Jack." Frankie laughed which made Jesse sob louder. Jack grinned and abruptly backhanded Jesse across the face, causing the younger man to roughly fall to his side._

_"Shut the fuck up, rat." Jack growled in a threatening tone. Jesse quieted himself down yet couldn't hold back his hitching breath and the hiccuping coming from his mouth. Uncle Jack stared down at him with complete and utter contempt, as if he were inferior; just gum at the end of a shoe and nothing more. "Hey Kenny, go take this little bitch back to his hole. Make sure he doesn't get fed for the next couple'a days." Kenny nodded and picked up Jesse like he was nothing, later putting him over his shoulder. It made sense, though. Jesse was not only profusely smaller than all of them in the first place, but now he was much lighter due to lack of nourishment that they gave him._

_After Kenny locked the grate and covered the pit with the tarp, he drunkenly wobbled back, his voice becoming one of the many from the clubhouse._

_And now, Jesse could honestly say that he was afraid of the dark._

* * *

He had spent the next few days hiding from alleys to alleys, using up all his money on cheap nourishment and water, and wasting a bit on drugs bought in one of the alleys he'd stumbled upon.

His facial started to grow out again, not much; mostly just stubble. His clothes were still cold and damp from being caught in the rain countless nights. There were days where people would recognize him and he'd have to make a run for it. He ate from trash cans and took people's stray cups of coffee that were usually never at least half-full.

Jesse thought about high-jacking a car to finally get out of there, but figured that he wouldn't have a chance, and considering that he didn't even know _how_ to high jack a car properly.

A week eventually went by and he began to look at the state he was when he had escaped from the gang hideout, except he had his short hair.

He stuck with the homeless, and a lot of times within the week, he was offered drugs and took whatever he could get to numb out the pain.

From to time, the police did stroll by, sometimes they'd see him, sometimes they wouldn't, either way he looked somewhat different by now. The only time he was comforted in any of this was by the occasional other homeless person who happened to wander or stroll past him.

* * *

Skyler watched Flynn quickly stroll into Wynne as the bell rung. He didn't look back to his mother to say goodbye, he didn't smile anymore either, hell, he barely spoke. Skyler watched as he faded into the crowd of teenagers, massaging her temple as she did so. After the doors were shut close, she started the engine and backed out of the driveway, ignoring the distasteful stares from other people (possibly parents or other friends).

She got that a lot now. Stares from other people. The name 'White' was now a disgrace to her family and a lot of people around her. She was slightly glad that he was dead but... also grieved over it. The reason to that was unknown, even to her.

Then there was that Pinkman kid. It's been three weeks so far and they still hadn't caught him. Hell, he's probably off to another state by now. But then again, his face is everywhere, so there's no really hiding. She felt bad for him and rooted on his side to not get caught. After all he's been through... he deserves rest; a break. Skyler felt a mother instinct increase inside of her and grew worried to what could have happened to the kid in the past week and a half, whether he's probably already dead, probably overdosed on some sort of drug somewhere.

She drove along the road until her eyes made a double take to a man standing near an alley at the sidewalk, he wore a hood over his face and wore very familiar clothes.

* * *

Jesse stepped out of an alley and panted heavily, stealing someone's drink and attempting to steal their food as well would do that to you. It was a close one too, considering that Jesse's legs still wouldn't seem to function properly. People were eyeing him, but quickly went back to their own business.

Jesse noticed as a car pulled up right in front of him, so he self-consciously moved along the sidewalk just in case the driver would recognise him... but... the car followed him as well.

Growing panicked, he walked faster until he made a turn. Was it a cop? Maybe the driver _did_ recognise him. He pulled over his hood and sped up, only to find his legs failing him. He was _so_ deathly exhausted.

Up ahead of the convenient stores were alleys in between, where Jesse had fled into and hoped that the anonymous driver hadn't seen him or won't take much interest in following him through there. He hid behind a wall in the alley as it stretched further down; it led to trash shoots and backsides of stores. He wiped away his tearing eyes and exhaled sharply.

"Excuse me?" A disembodied feminine voice had spoken from somewhere that Jesse couldn't find. He thrashed his head about, trying to find the person of this voice. A familiar blonde walked into the open, giving a sad smile as she did so. "You're... Jesse. Right?" It was a rhetorical question in which Jesse hadn't replied to.

He looked afraid, and giving up. It reminded Skyler a little bit of a lost puppy who'd just been kicked and left out to die. He stared, short breathed, and backing up further against the wall. "Look... I want to... I want to help." She looked... tired, exhausted actually. Stressed. Who could blame her? But that didn't exactly make Jesse feel any better. Skyler reminded him too much of Mr. White, and he wanted nothing to do with that anymore. "I could, um... Take you to my house. I still have leftovers of breakfast, if you're hungry... You could clean up..."

Jesse enigmatically stared, "...Why?" He asked out of curiosity, in a brittle tone. His expression was remaining taut and tremulous, unsure of whether the woman on him was playing tricks just like everyone else. Skyler gave a soft smile and jerked her head towards the direction of her car that had followed Jesse earlier.

Jesse stepped forwards, eyeing Skyler suspiciously yet putting his whole trust with her; where else did he have to go? And he couldn't exactly deny a free meal, shower, shave...

Skyler helped him inside the car and dubiously closed the door, wondering herself if she had made the right decision. She slid close the door a walked around to the driver's seat, then started the engine and drove off.

* * *

_There was banging on the bars of the grate that woke Jesse up from the shitty mattress he lay on. Jesse froze up and listened, "Wake up, rat. Ya need to cook soon."_

_His face was still swollen from the previous day, as well as his entire body was sore. Deep cuts spread across his face, along with forming bruises, a black eye, not to mention the new possible scar forming below his eye. His body on the other hand was covered in welts, bruises... He was certain that a few of his ribs were fractured or broken, and will probably be left to heal unnaturally._

_Jesse groaned in pain as he sat up, cradling the side of his chest as it screamed at him. He afterwards pulled up his hands to feel at his neck, softly making contact with it but jerking his fingers away when it hurt too much. There was a bruise forming around his neck from when one of the gang members had started to strangle him._

_It's been five months now... The beginning of the fifth month at least, he thinks. Every month that passed, or rather, every day that passed, resulted in the more cruel their torments were._

_Jesse couldn't walk without having to look over his shoulder every second, he couldn't stand without trembling in fear, he couldn't look at any of the gang members without tearing up._

_For the first time in five months, Jesse felt as if he belonged here and only here because, after all he's done, he deserves it._

* * *

After Skyler had snuck Jesse in her house, he immediately went to take a shower as Skyler took his clothes to wash (he had to wear a towel in the meantime while ignoring Skyler's agape mouth in reaction to the state and the marks left on his body). He browsed through the washroom cabinets, only to find medication and bathroom supplies. He compulsively eyed the medication bottles, letting his blood run cold as he did so.

Eventually, his clothes were exceptionally dry enough to put on. He sat at the empty table that only had an ashtray atop of it, which Skyler removed. As for breakfast, he was given the leftovers Skyler had promised him earlier. Eggs and bacon with a side of water. He didn't eat much, still not used to large quantities of food; being homeless for a week was not exactly helpful.

Skyler stared at him from the opposite side of the table as he drank the water left for him. Jesse placed down the glass and looked down at his full plate, feeling under pressure as Skyler's eyes analysed him. "Look, I know you only brought me here for answers," He began, hoarse voice yet remaining gentle, finally looking up albeit not making eye contact with the woman across from him. "So, just ask. Just... don't work me." He added bluntly with pleading eyes. Skyler visibly gulped, sad eyes and sad smiles as she opened her mouth to speak. It was true... She wanted away from _anything _having to do with Heisenberg or Walt or any of that, but... she still wanted to know.

"How... did he..." Skyler started, Jesse had never mentioned how Walt had actually died. Whether it was painful or quick, she wanted to know. "How did he die?" She continued quickly, disgusted with herself for wanting to have knowledge of this so badly, disregarding whether or not it would hurt the traumtised kid.

Jesse swallowed before responding, "He killed himself." He got a shocked look from Skyler, in which he quickly moved a hand forwards and shook it as if to decline her presumed thought. "No... not like that... I mean, it was his bullet." He restated. Skyler gave a look of grief, repulsed with herself that she even felt those sort of emotions for Walt, but couldn't help herself either. "He came in... I think he meant to kill me along with them but... All of a sudden he..." Jesse blinked rapidly as his eyes began to water, his nose turning pink as well his eyes. "He went at me and was on top of me on the floor... Next thing I know, the entire place explodes in.. in gunfire." He cleared his throat and continued, "Later, uh, he gave me a chance to... to shoot him. But... I didn't, I don't know why... why I didn't but he was already bleeding... He got shot by his own machine."

Skyler wiped away a stray tear and sniffled, holding back an urge to burst out crying and opened her mouth to reply, "I-" But was interrupted as the front door creaked open, and a young boy on crutches stepped in.

* * *

**A/N: I sort of wrote this (the next chapter, really.) because I really wanted Flynn and Jesse to meet throughout the entire series, for Junior to see the other son that Walt had that wasn't him... but I never got that so... Anyways, review/favourite/follow? Next chapter is most likely the penultimate one. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: PENULTIMAT****E CHAPTER... PROBABLY OR PROBABLY NOT. ****Oh God and I was also freaking out over The Walking Dead mid-season finale. Speaking of, I have a dying sensation for a Walking Dead/Breaking Bad crossover. Anyways, this might be the penultimate (second last) chapter, then obviously I'll do an epilogue... I'm not sure. If I think of more interesting stuff to write for this then there will be more chapters. Enjoy and r****eview, please!**

**WARNING: Flashbacks of verbal and slight physical violence.**

**I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.**

* * *

_He didn't think ever in his life that he would grow out his hair this long, but it wasn't like he had a choice now._

_Jesse walked forwards but only to abruptly be jerked back by the stuck leash that he had to yank to allow it to flow through its track again. His eyes were failing him as he strolled along the aisle to grab a mask. Suddenly, the creak of the opening to the lab echoed through the room and Jesse turned his head to see nothing other than one of the gang members- Lester was it?- walking inside._

_Jesse figured that maybe he was just supervising, even though that was usually Todd's job. Awkwardly, he continued his stroll along the track to get as far away from the gang member as possible, but swore under his breath as it got stuck again and went taut. "Goin' somewhere?" Lester growled with a mocking smile. Jesse gulped and slowly made his arm up to yank the leash further._

_"I need to finish cooking." The younger man blatantly said, hoping that his phrase would spare him a few bruises. They weren't supposed to bother him while he was cooking. "Leave... leave me alone... please." His voice cracked slightly as he tried not to show fear (obviously failing); it took a simple action just to make him break down; most of the gang's actions were basic and menial, yet it still seemed to damage so much. They knew he was terrified of them and what they could do, and that made Lester smile wider._

_"Nah, don't feel like it." Lester stalked closer to Jesse, making the younger man freeze in his place. "Tell me, rat," He emphasized the last word with disgust, as if Jesse were a disgrace to all humanity. Jesse started slightly at the word. "Don't you want to get outta here?" He asked, sounding oddly genuine. Jesse looked down, avoiding eye contact, in which Lester frowned and responded in a threatening tone, "Answer."_

_"...Yes..." Jesse quietly whisper so that it was nearly inaudible. His bottom lip started to quiver faintly as Lester silently chuckled._

_Lester smiled tauntingly as he spoke, "Couldn't hear that, pussy." He assertively jerked up Jesse's head so that their eyes met. "And look at me while you're fuckin' talking, rat." He added._

_"Yes." Jesse repeated loud enough for the assailant in front of him to hear. He gulped down the lump in his throat as Lester released Jesse's jaw and snickered._

_"Shame, because you're never gonna fuckin' get out. We're keepin' you here as long as you're needed." Lester reminded before inhaling briefly to speak again, "And you know what happens if you try to escape again? Enlighten me." Tears strung in Jesse's eyes as his face started to grimace slightly. Lester solemnly rolled his eyes and scoffed, ineptly slapping Jesse across the cheek, which Jesse afterwards brought his hands to. "Answer me." Jesse's nose started to water as a tear rolled down his cheek; Lester just wanted to hear him say that they'd kill Brock if he tries to escape._

_"Fuckin' pussy. If you even think about escaping, we'll kill little Brock. I'm sure you wont want another one dead, after killin' your bitch." He taunted. Jesse felt anger burning inside of him as Lester continued his insults regarding the death of Andrea, when finally he noticed Jesse crying over it. "Aw, is that makin' you upset? Tell ya what, rat. I'll stop when you stop crying. She was nothing but a bitch, and it's your fault that she's dead-" Before he could finish, Lester was nearly knocked off his feet by Jesse, who cried out as he charged forwards with outraged tears rolling down his cheeks._

_Jesse was nothing in comparison to Lester, who was approximately 6 feet or higher, Jesse being only 5'7". That being said, Lester straightened himself from the sudden force and gave Jesse a glare of abundant wrath, but quickly switched to give a dangerous chuckle as he took out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket (along with a lighter) and lit one up to smoke. Jesse watched anxiously for longer than just a brief moment, whimpering on the spot as he knew what was coming to him; he was going to get burnt. And sure enough..._

_Lester abruptly took a step forwards and yanked Jesse forwards from his hair, acquiring a painful cry from the kid, so that his neck and backside were in the open of Lester's vision. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth with his open hand and pressed it against the backside of Jesse's neck, resulting in a tear-jerking cry. Just as he tightened his grip on Jesse's hair to do it again, Todd walked in on the scene._

_"Uh, Lester?" He asked, completely apathetic as always. Lester turned his head to see Todd giving a blank expression, glancing at Jesse's head remaining in the hands of the buff gang member. "We're, uh, not supposed to interrupt his cook..." Todd continued, scratching the back of his head subconsciously. Lester scowled as he released Jesse, who was panting as if he were in a panic attack (which he probably was); Lester merely gave him a look of contempt. The eldest man chuckled and turned back to Todd, who stood awkwardly by the doorway._

_"Good 'ol Toddy." He walked forwards to the exit, messing up Todd's hair as he walked past him. "Keep an eye out for this pussy," He stopped at the exit, jerking his head to the direction of their pet, purposely speaking loudly to let Jesse hear exactly what he was saying. "He's gonna need a lot more supervisin' to keep me away from fuckin' him up good." And with that, Lester turned away and out of sight._

_Todd looked around himself and walked towards Jesse, who was letting tears fall freely down his face. "Hey, sorry about that, Jesse. I'll tell 'em next time not to bother you so much during the cook." He apologised, gingerly positioning Jesse to stand straight, ignoring the older man's groans of pain. "Some of them really like you 'round, y'know."_

_Jesse turned towards the table where there laid all sort of supplies and flasks for cooking, he hung his head low and albeit he was afraid to say, even if weakly; it was barely audible for Todd to hear anyway:_

_"Go fuck yourself." But Todd walked away and leant against the wall of the lab to watch Jesse; his gaze made the hairs on Jesse's arms stand; whether he liked it or not, he was more terrified of Todd than anyone else in the gang._

_I am a coward, he thought, Mr. White was right._

* * *

Skylar looked up from her seat as she gasped silently to herself, Jesse softly shut his eyes, awaiting to find out for who exactly was at the door. "Hey, I'm home for lunch..." Flynn trailed off as he noticed another figure sitting in front of his mother, who's mouth was slightly agape. "Uh... who's that...?" He asked quietly. Jesse froze up as he opened his eyes wide; albeit he had never actually heard the kid's voice, he was pretty damn sure he knew who it was. _Oh, fuck._

"Er, hey sweetie, um, what do you want for lunch?" Skyler quickly got up from her seat with a smile that was obviously false and attempting to be innocent. Jesse could feel the awkward tension as it crept up behind him, he took a deep breath and tried to mute out what was happening; sitting still like a statue after he put his hood over his head. "We have uh, left over pizza from yesterday." She glanced at Jesse, only to see him blankly staring at his full plate as he chewed the inside of his cheek. His eyes mostly spoke for him; he was uncomfortable to the highest. It reminded Skyler of when Walt had invited Jesse over to dinner unexpectedly, except back then he was more alive and talkative...

Flynn gave his mother an angry look and there was a brief moment of uneasy silence, which felt more like forever than just a few seconds. Jesse broke the silence by slowly emerging from his seat; a screeching sound as the chair scraped against the floor. "I'm just... uh, gonna, er..." He spoke slowly as he slowly made his way to the front door, trying to hide his face as much as possible with his hood. As he put his hand on the door knob to turn, he continued, "-Gonna go..." Unfortunately, Flynn's voice stopped him from opening the door to leave.

"Hold on, he's- he..." Flynn stuttered as he spoke, inching himself forwards slightly to face towards his mother, who had the look of complete anxiousness plastered onto her face. Her nose began to turn pink as well as her eyes as the young boy continued, "He's the f-fugitive that was on TV! He's the one that worked with dad- w-with _Walt_." His voiced raised louder as he spat his father's name; his eyes began to water, feeling even more betrayed that his own Mom would lie to him _again_ after what- a year a half of being dishonest? Skyler stepped forwards, holding back the tears as they strung into her eyes.

"Junior-"

"It's Flynn." The younger boy interrupted, a perturbed expression on his face as he spoke. Skyler gulped, forgetting entirely that there was another man in the same room; Flynn must have done the same. She closed her eyes briefly and opened them again, giving her son sad eyes; the same ones she'd given for the past seven months.

"Flynn... I know... I know you're upset and I-" But she was cut off again.

"No! I want to know everything now!" Flynn shouted, his face grimacing with every word. Jesse glanced back and force between the two, wishing that he was invisible but only to find out that he wasn't when Skyler shot her eyes at him; eyes that were full of apologies. He felt for the kid, hell, he went through all the pain Walt had caused for the past two years, and this kid was going through all he had gone through within approximately six months. Jesse visibly clenched his jaw as his throat went taut. There was an uneasy silence, Skyler was speechless; completely taken from words. She had nothing to say, especially not in such an abrupt moment. What exactly was she to say? 'This man is a murderer, drug addict, and also worked with your father for more than a year, causing profuse amounts of deaths, and yet I still seem to sympathise with him'? She'd already lost most of her own son's trust, she couldn't lose all of it.

But maybe that was better.

"This is, um... Jesse Pinkman... and he helped your father... through-... I..." She trailed off and remained silent; completely cut off of what to say. Her son was in front of her, pleading for her honesty, yet the man to her side felt like the exact same presence of Flynn; he was lost and upset, and had been through too much than he could handle. Flynn shot her a devastated look. He was angry; why was she sticking up for this... this _murderer, _rather than her own _son_. He glanced at Jesse and surprisingly saw, not someone who was a danger, but someone completely broken, inconsolable, anguished, _bereaved_... This was the man who was more of a son to Walt than Flynn ever was. The youngest of the three grimaced in an utter lugubrious expression as he held back an urge to scream, storming out of the room without looking back. Skyler let a tear fall from her eye, her bottom lip quivering as she massaged her temple to relieve stress. She turned to Jesse, who gave a face of guilt and sorrow. He nodded faintly, getting the message from Skyler's gaze; _I can't have you here._

"Can you..." He sighed before continuing, feeling as if asking for a tiny favour would be a profound bother. "... Can you just give me a ride?" Skyler sadly smiled for a brief moment before nodding, avoiding eye contact.

"Where?"

"I don't know."

* * *

_They only seemed to get more cruel and inhumane by the day; dehumanizing Jesse in almost every situation. They didn't even call him by his name; only Todd did that, and Jesse hated it. He hated how softly he said it, as if he were trying to be gentle and polite; when he was the killer of Andrea and the bringer of most of Jesse's pain._

_They would neglect him too, at times. One previous day, they had 'accidentally' left him in his pit for too long without care, jeering and laughing at him hysterically once they had returned to find him fainting from dehydration with a wet stain trailing down the side of his pants legs due to going too long without washroom breaks. His flushed-red face of humiliation was apparently 'hilarious' to them as well._

_They also liked to tease him for the laughs. Tempt him that they were going to free him, or tempt him with better food and drinks, only to crush his hopes by laughing in his face and swearing at him for actually believing they would treat him like he was worth something- **anything**._

_Everyday was followed by insults and vile remarks which sunk into Jesse's mind to make him believe whatever came to him. It came to the point where he was terrified of merely speaking._

_"You're nothin' more than a piece of filth, you know that, rat? You don't deserve anythin'. Hell, if I could've," Uncle Jack had once said to him in the previous months on one of his tipsy days; though even if he was sober, it wouldn't make much a difference and he probably would have said the same. "I would'a killed you a long fuckin' time ago. I dunno why Toddy wants you as his bitch. You're fuckin' worthless, rat."_

_And from then on and beyond, Jesse believed him and every single word they had said to him._

* * *

Skyler parked at a parking lot of a basic motel that was near a quiet square Albuquerque. She switched off the engine and turned her head to her side to face Jesse. "This is as far as I could take you without getting noticed." Her voice was gentle; it reminded Jesse of his Mom's voice, how she managed to keep her voice soft and smooth after finding out her son was a murderer and involved with the infamous _Heisenberg_. Jesse took a deep breath and readied himself to open the door, but was cut off as Skyler stopped him. "Wait-" He turned around and halted for Skyler to speak. She took out her wallet from her purse which was placed on the floor of the rental van, pulling out a mixture of ten and twenty-dollar bills, which eventually let up to approximately 100 dollars in cash.

Jesse shook his head and slightly moved his hands up as if to decline the money. "No." He gently spoke, glancing at the money and back to Skyler. "I can't take that." He added, his hands close together, as well as his feet, as if chains were still bound to him.

It was amazing how much eyes could say about a person, yet Skyler saw nothing in the eyes of the man in front of her; no life, no happiness. "Take it, please." She simply spoke, a hint of assertiveness in her voice. She wanted him to be okay; she knew he probably wouldn't be, but it was worth a try. Jesse looked at the money in her hands and pulled up both of his hands to take it. It's funny how such a 'small' amount of money meant a lot to him now; it felt like just yesterday that he was throwing millions out of a car. He opened the door and stepped out, looking back with thankful eyes. Skyler looked back as well, face full of worry and anxiousness as Jesse walked in the direction of the motel.

* * *

**A/N: Hopefully I could update quicker... Sorry for any grammar errors! I'll look it over later. Thanks for reading this chapter (as well as this story) and review, please!**


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